


Lizards Melt in your Mouth

by Cyrelia_J



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Sex, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bottom Garak, Crack, Dubious Ethics, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Humor, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, thicc lizard is thicc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-02 15:29:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14547780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyrelia_J/pseuds/Cyrelia_J
Summary: [v 2.0 MASSIVE EDIT with 8k more content added!]Doctor Julian Bashir has no idea what he's in for when he agrees to pet sit for his colleague Doctor Kelas Parmak. Doctor Parmak has asked Julian to watch his pet lizard "Elim" while he attends a conference in Australia.There's just one instruction that seems odd.Under no circumstances is "Elim" to have any chocolate...Modern AU using my standard "Aliens have been immigrating and trading with humans since the 50s" trope so aliens still aliens.





	Lizards Melt in your Mouth

**Author's Note:**

> Not a whole lot to say except a bit of a bizarre AU PWP. The fandom could use more trash AU PWPs so here I am to deliver haha. Originally posted on Tumblr now with a few minor edits. (as of 1/1/19 now with MASSIVE edits)
> 
> Thank you all for reading, and enjoy!

Julian checks his watch as he rings the bell. It’s exactly one o’clock. His duffel bag is slung over a shoulder since he expects to be both pet sitting and house sitting for the next five days. He was sure to be punctual so that his colleague, Doctor Parmak, will have ample time to go over the proper care and instructions for his lizard “Elim”. Julian had asked Doctor Parmak if the name had any special meaning in Kardasi, like if it translated to something like “Flame” or “Sparky”. Doctor Parmak had blinked at him a few times before laughing hard at the question. The alien doctor had a habit of laughing raucously in response to statements that he viewed as jokes; he tended to view a lot of serious inquiries as such. _“Ah no Doctor Bashir. Elim is his_ _name_ _and I would think you’d have to ask his mother if there’s any meaning beyond that.”_  Julian had given a bit of a forced laugh, figuring that Doctor Parmak was trying to be humorous in response, and simply let it drop.

 

Julian shuffles his feet as he waits. He’s never watched a pet lizard before and the responsibility has only become weightier as time has passed. Doctor Parmak had explained that he had a medical conference to attend in Sydney, and there was no way that he was going to put his beloved Elim through quarantine when he was only going to be away for a week. Julian was surprised but flattered when Doctor Parmak had asked him if he’d be able to help; he would consider them acquaintances at best. Usually their interactions were limited to consultations being that Doctor Parmak worked in Obstetrics and Julian in Pediatrics. Julian could only think of a few occasions where they’d socialized outside of that.

 

Doctor Parmak seemed to keep to himself. Julian had never known him to make plans with anyone outside of work. Julian’s friend Miles, who’d headed security long before Julian had started his residency, said that in all the years he’d been there Doctor Parmak always just came and went without any noticeable family or friends. That struck Julian as lonely, and he supposed that the doctor may have never adapted to Earth culture even after over a decade of living and working in Florida. So naturally Julian said he didn’t mind using some of his vacation to lounge around and catch up on some reading and research to help him out. He told himself that it was an honor to be trusted with so weighty a responsibility; and then Miles had to ruin it by telling him that Doctor Parmak had only asked him after most everyone else had already said no.

 

The door opens and Julian sees Doctor Parmak standing there looking rather casual, if Julian is being diplomatic. Julian is certain that he’s never seen the doctor in anything other than scrubs and his lab coat. He removes his sunglasses so he can see better, even as his light sensitive eyes protest the sudden change in their rush to adjust. Julian is wearing his beloved Julio CHAM sunglasses; he doesn’t care if Miles says they make him look like a “douche”. He blinks a few times, brain taking this moment to remind him cheerfully that Doctor Parmak had asked Julian to call him by his first name, Kelas, the last time they’d spoken. “Kelas” definitely suits the figure standing in front of him, wearing a red and white striped tank top, and a pair of shorts. “Shorts”, Julian thinks, is generous given the length- or lack thereof. _Does he have any idea what he has on? Is this like one of those socks and sandals cultural crossed wires thing?_

 

Doctor Parmak, or rather _Kelas_ is displaying an awful lot of gray Cardassian skin- lord those legs go on for years all slim and smooth scales. Julian may feel his mouth get just a bit dry before Kelas turns a wide thousand watt smile in his direction, drawing Julian’s attention back from the slight curve of his hips. Kelas’ sunglasses are perched on his head while he still wears his usual round silver glasses, creating a bit of a comical picture that thankfully calms Julian’s excitement.

 

“Ah, Julian, thank you for being punctual.” Is he imagining things or is there a little sweep of eyes over Julian’s body in return? “Not that I would have expected otherwise, that is.” No, it can’t be. Julian is certain that he would’ve noticed if Doctor P- er Kelas had any interest in him. “You’re always so punctual at work that I shouldn’t have worried.” _What’s there to look at today anyway, Julian? You’re standing here in your red painting t shirt and shorts. He probably thinks you look like a bum_ . “It’s just that I’ve observed that while you’re always on time for work you’re so frequently tardy for recreational functions.” Is he really? Kelas has such a lovely little bow of a mouth. “But this is hardly recreation so it would stand that I should hold you to your work precedents… Oh! You should come inside!” The way he says it nearly makes Julian swallow his tongue; he’s sure his eyes are huge. _What’s with you Julian? The heat? You really ought to listen to your own advice and drink more water when it’s this hot._

Thankfully, Kelas doesn’t wait for an answer. He’s already turning around, giving an apology for not offering to carry Julian’s bags. He says it’s because of his back, and that’s when Julian realizes that he might not be strictly speaking of his age. Julian can see his back clearly now, and his mind helpfully supplies kyphosis- a frontal rather than lateral curvature of the spine. The signature Cardassian ridges only accentuate that round now that they’re bared. That isn’t the only round that Julian observes. He also catches the round swell of Kelas’ rear wiggling down the hallway, causing his sunglasses to slip a bit. Good thing he hadn’t removed them before now or else Kelas might have caught him staring. He thinks about that a moment and also considers the matter of Kelas’ age again.

 

Julian had never figured out his colleague’s age, and it always seemed rude to ask. He knows that the Cardassian lifespan is usually two to two and a half times longer than that of a human, and that their ancestry links more closely to reptiles than hominids. Given the white hair and slight stoop, Julian had simply assumed that he was likely on the downward side of a hundred but is he really? He _could_ be. Julian’s patients don’t display the usual stretch marks that some human children do from sudden growth spurts. Their scales shed and molt the same way that snakes and other reptiles do. Julian is far from a herpetologist, but he does know that reptiles generally display few outward signs of aging, rather the changes manifest internally. Alright, so all he can conclude for now is that he doesn’t have nearly enough information to know for sure.

 

That, and if Kelas _is_ over a hundred years old then he’s just about the finest centenarian that Julian’s ever laid eyes on.

 

“I’m just glad that I can help!” Julian calls after him, feeling like some sort of reply is in order. As he steps inside the foyer, he sees a few pairs of shoes lined up on a small rug to the right. Well his mother didn’t raise an animal, so he takes off his red Converse and steps onto the hard stone flooring. He looks around, appreciating the open floor plan, so much different than the old brownstone where he grew up. The dining room is to his immediate right, a short hall, then welcoming looking family room is in front, a galley kitchen a little further left with a window out to the family room, completed on his left with a longer hall.  

 

“Make yourself at home, Julian! Elim and I will be right with you!” Julian hears Kelas yell back. He almost sets his bags down in the foyer but doesn’t want them to get mixed in with the suitcases already there. Instead, he walks into the family room and sets them next to an inviting leather sectional. He notices a a coffee table in front of it with three glasses of lemonade on brightly colored coasters surrounding a festive pitcher. He can see each glass has a different colored straw with plastic ice cubes shaped like little fish swimming around. Julian notices the glass with the green straw drunk down halfway and the one with no straw a little more than that. Feeling like Goldilocks for a surreal moment, he takes a sip from the blue straw thinking it’s just right.

 

Julian had asked Kelas conversationally exactly what type of lizard Elim was, to which Kelas reiterated strangely that he was a just a lizard, and asked earnestly if there really were more than one type of lizard on Earth. Kelas was only familiar with the little pests that kept skittering in from the patio and he had his own word _regnar_ for those. Julian supposed then that “Elim” must have been some sort of native Cardassian lizard then. He had thought to at least read up on some of the more popular Earth species like bearded dragons and geckos but still wasn’t so sure how that would translate. He was terrified of accidentally letting it loose. Florida already had its share of issues from unlicensed pets but he was hesitant to get too personal about it.

 

 _Well they can’t be that terribly different being lizards and all. Maybe it will even have a little tuft of hair like Kelas does. You read that piece last year talking about scales, feathers and hair deriving from the same ancestral lizard ancestor. Ha, perhaps we’ve all got a little lizard in us… if not I wouldn’t mind some. God, Julian, just how thirsty are you? Awful, awful joke, that._ Julian then wonders just how big the lizard is, imagining Kelas coming back with a gecko perched on his shoulder, or even the comical sight of him holding a massive monitor full in his arms. So it surprises him when  he sees Doctor Parmak re emerge from what appears to be the patio empty handed.

 

It looks strange for a patio door, resembling more of a cage door with its thick black bars, massive latches, and locks. Julian had always found Melbourne to be a rather safe city especially in developments like this one, so he can’t imagine why all that is necessary. He doesn’t wonder for long, however when he sees a thick rope looped around Kelas’ wrist that trails clear out the door. It gives him pause, that improbable mental image of the old doctor and two arms full of reptile not seeming quite so improbable now.

“My apologies, Julian,” he hears Kelas say as a... man sized figure comes into view at the end of that leash. “He’s been terribly cross about my leaving so he may not be the best of company right now.”

 

No, it’s not a man sized figure but an actual Cardassian! _No… not quite, there are definitely differences but…_ He’s the same height as Doctor Parmak, perhaps nearly as tall as Julian himself, although his posture isn’t quite squared up with that of a human or Cardassian proper. He has the same gray skin but a distinct lack of a prominent nose - halfway to a snout - his black hair more feathered in its appearance or even like quills angled back. As he looks at Julian with a flick of  his tongue (and Lord, what a tongue that darts out from those thin reptilian lips!) to the air, Julian thinks that he has the most fantastic blue eyes.

 

There’s also a collar around his neck.

He’s also naked.

 

Fucking brilliantly naked, Julian thinks as he nearly chokes on his lemonade before setting the glass down on the table hard. He directs his eyes to the breakfast bar, his mother raised a gentleman there (and he can hear his cousin Paddy having a laugh at _that_ ) but that eidetic memory of his has already saved and stored that image down to every last detail. There are flashes like a camera clicking off in his head of broad shoulders, wide chest- powerful dark ridges around pectorals but just a little softness- that runs down to a pudgy darling stomach, hips just a little wider than usual for a male, thighs that are just so... so brilliantly blessedly deliciously ( _God, Julian, run out of adjectives yet?)_ _thick,_ and he tries not to think about the _chuva_ he’d glimpsed either, those ridges, that lovely dip leading down the _ajan_ , closed but leaving so many things to wonder about and… and wait.

 

There was a tail. Julian is certain he saw a tail.

 

Julian swallows hard, opens his mouth, and turns back seeing Kelas looking at him concerned.

“Julian? Are you alright?” he asks as Julian is still trying to digest exactly what he’s looking at. Yes, that’s definitely a tail - a prehensile tail connected to the spine that is several feet down tapering off, the end of it reaching the floor, the same color gray, ridges down the center and no... no that’s not a plug that’s a-

“Is this ah… some sort of… fetish thing?” Julian asks hearing his voice half squeaking that question out loud. Kelas’ look switches from concerned to confused.

“A what?” _Oh God._ Julian takes another long drink shaking his head, waving his hand.

“Nothing! Nothing ah…” He’s trying incredibly hard not to look at the naked… man lizard thing standing next to Kelas looking at him darkly.

 

“Kelas, you are _not_ leaving me alone with this dubious individual for an entire week. I have assured you on numerous occasions that this is completely unnecessary and that I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” It talked- er… _he_ talked. Julian has… no idea how to process any of this. _Of course he would be talking, Julian. Why wouldn’t the lizard man be talking?_ He takes another long drink of lemonade rather wishing that it was hard lemonade. _Well, Mulder was right, they’re definitely out there._ But even on the wildest episode of the old exploitive alien reality show X Files, Julian is certain that he’s never seen a Cardassian keeping another Cardassian (though the episode on the brothels of Breen was absolutely eye opening in a literal sense that nearly got the show cancelled). Or anything like this!

 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Elim, you never remember to turn the lights off and I certainly can’t trust you around my plants. Do Edossian Orchids rings a bell?”

“That was one time!” the lizard man protests looking… offended? Julian thinks there’s a bit of a hiss to his voice, and Kelas waves him off.

“One time with the _Orchids_ Elim, but you’re forgetting about the nightshade, ahh but I know better than to let you distract me. We’d be arguing until my flight left if you had your way about it. Julian here is a pediatrician so he knows how to take a firm hand with naughty little ones, isn’t that right?” There’s a mischievous glint to that look Kelas gives.

 

“Er… right, that’s me.” Julian has unconsciously retreated back into the couch cushions just a bit. _Right, thanks, put that back on my why don’t you?_ Julian can see the lizard man looking at him  with a dismissive snort but he doesn’t look away. He may not exactly be the personification of intimidating but one has to establish dominance with animals… don’t they? _Oh but those eyes! Fascinating, blood brilliant eyes!_ There’s a vertical reptilian slit - predatory in fact the way that Garak looks at him - but no less fascinating.

 

“Is it alright if I unleash him?” Kelas follows up. “It would be good if Elim gets to know you and I promise he doesn’t bite.” Julian doesn’t miss the _look_ that passes between them which screams that is a bold faced lie and that this lizard man _absolutely_ bites. Still, Julian promised and this is well… if nothing else it will be a story he can tell his friends later assuming they don’t think he’s just taking the piss. Julian manages a weak smile, deciding that this absolutely _has_ to be some strange fetish thing, and nods.

“Oh that’s ah… not a problem at all,” Julian says as Parmak unlatches the long leash, “-Elim… is it?” he asks gamely.

 

The lizard man makes no move towards him, instead giving a disdainful sniff.

“That’s Garak, to you, and I don’t believe that my presence here is required further. I should hate to intrude on the two of you gentleman discussing the terms of my interment” he says smartly before pivoting on a heel and stalking back out the door. Kelas sighs.

 

“I’m sorry, Julian, he isn’t normally like this. I’m really not sure _what_ is going on with him today. I know these haven’t been ideal circumstances for the two of you to be introduced but- Elim what are you doing with that book?!” Julian watches Kelas stop suddenly and rush through the door after him. He sits up further on the cushion, unsure if he should be following them or not, realizing that his mouth is gaped open, catching flies as his mother would say. _Can’t imagine what she’d say to all this. I’m sure father would be banging on about how I should’ve just married Palis and taken that director’s position so I wouldn’t be “changing alien nappies for pocket change, like there’s something_ _wrong_ _with being a pediatrician at the country hospital..._ _Well sorry, we can’t all be like cousin Alastair pulling puppies out of burning buildings and posing for charity firefighter calendars..._

 

It’s then that Julian’s eyes catch sight of the typed sheet detailing the instructions for care. Eyebrow raised, he skims it quickly finding that it’s perfectly… normal. In fact, if he wasn’t aware of the nature of the “pet” in question he wouldn’t find it to be anything out of the ordinary at all. It seems that Elim- er _Garak_ , is primarily carnivorous and eats a carefully blended mix of various ground meats, eggs, and a few necessary vegetables. There are instructions on feeding times, how to prepare the blend, and proper portioning with a little note regretfully expressing that Kelas has unfortunately been prone to spoiling him so he’s a bit soft around the middle but still perfectly healthy and “serviceable”. _Serviceable? Serviceable for what?_ Julian wonders as he keeps reading. Garak is allowed a few sweet treats such as citrus fruits, lemonade, which explains the third glass and… _Huh, that’s odd._ Julian looks the bolded and underlined note seeing that it says under no circumstances to allow him to have any chocolate.

 

Julian shrugs at that supposing it’s either related to the note about spoiling and overfeeding, or that it’s poisonous to lizards the same way it is to other animals. Could it be that? Julian is sure that he’s seen Kelas eating truffles on more than one occasion with no ill effect but there could be enough biological differences in the two or- _Or how about you don’t even question it, Julian. Just go with it. Even if this is just some weird Scooby Do shite and it’s all a man in a costume or a bunch of expensive prosthetics and sex toys, what’s it to you? It’s only a week after all and there’s no harm in just… humoring whatever this is. No chocolate. Right. Not that hard._

 

Except that  Julian’s own wicked chocolate addiction prompted him to bring several of the Lindt extra creamy bars with him and he sort of thinks he might die without them. He just resolves to set them up in a high cupboard or hide them somewhere else and only eat them when Garak isn’t around. Right, easy peasy as his father would say. According to the sheet, Garak is diurnal like most lizards and should sleep at night same as Julian. _Alright, midnight chocolate sneak it is. It’ll be just like being home with mum and dad and the old man getting on your case about sneaking snacks and getting fat._ Julian snorts at that considering he’s still barely breaking one fifty even at his six foot height. _Probably couldn’t put on another stone if I wanted to, thanks again for that one, both of you. Maybe if you two hadn’t-._

 

“Aha!” The exclamation from Kelas makes Julian jump, that sudden sound disrupting his thoughts.  He sees a hand appear from the doorway waving him forward with Kelas calling his name the same way one would a dog. Julian hesitates a moment before telling himself he can hardly back out now with any hope of maintaining friendly work relations, and standing up. He walks through the rest of the family room and sitting room with the piano, entering the cage door - and really he can’t think of it as anything _other_ than a cage. Julian isn’t exactly sure of what to expect,but he steels himself for anything. That’s what he thinks as his eyes relay to his brain the very clear message that no, nothing he imagined could have possible prepared him for _this_ oddity.

 

It’s- It’s exactly like he would picture the inside of a lizard cage to be if he were shrunk down to the size of a mealworm. Except he’s still perfectly Julian-sized and everything else has been blown up to accommodate a man sized pet. The patio – or what might have once been the patio – has been converted into some sort of habitat. Part of it is indoors, under a roof with a massive series of lamps connected. The lamps are connected to an array of solar panels as they beam warmth onto a rock the size of an old Volkswagen. There’s also a large cushion (or possibly beanbag chair?) placed inside a cave just large enough for perhaps two Garaks.

 

 _Is that where he sleeps then?_ Julian wonders, still dazzled by the massive backyard habitat. There’s a screen leading outside to a swimming pool sized pond, the filtration system evident near a high privacy fence with lots of sand and two palm trees. There’s even a small waterfall spilling over rocks into the pool, and Julian thinks that he might enjoy such a place, might even liken it to some advertised all in one Caribbean deal the pop up ads are always advertising. But he reminds himself that this _isn’t_ a recreational pool and that the Dirty Dancing song isn’t going to queue up with some ultra hetero beach scene because he’s pet sitting a bloody giant lizard man who’s currently wrestling with Kelas over what appears to be a book.

 

“Elim is quite fond of Preloc, Shoggoth, and most classic Cardassian authors,” is what Julian is able to make out that’s quickly followed by “drop it!” from Kelas and “you have absolutely _no right_ to such heavy handed censorship!” from Garak. He’s not sure if he should be interfering (recalling plenty of stories of irresponsible exotic pet owners killed by their own wild charges) or if this is all perfectly er… normal. For the two of them. He takes a step forward but is stopped by Kelas’ hand going up, the text wrested away victoriously while Garak rubs at his snout with an angry glare.

 

“As I was saying,” Kelas continues, sparing a reproachful look back, “those are his favorites but he’s known to read just about anything. Lizards as a rule are exceptionally fond of their books but you have to _watch_ them.” He once again expressively waves the book and Julian can see now that it’s a hardbound copy of Milton’s “Paradise Lost”. “ _This,_ is the sort of thing that will only agitate him and it’s the reason he was so unpleasant earlier.” Garak hisses and makes another grab for it for it. Julian almost expects a second round of rough tussling to follow - sure that his eyes are wide, a hand going up to his mouth - when he sees Kelas sigh and smack Garak hard on the nose with a rolled up newspaper. Julian is positive he has no idea where that paper materialized from.

“No! Bad!” Julian watches in awe as Garak blinks a few times and half growls under his breath the “other world” is no less a paradise than Bajor and the matter of “corruption” and “evil” are purely in the eye of the “conquered” and therefore such accounts are highly suspect.

 

Parmak clears his throat. Garak looks at Julian seeming to come back to himself, and gives a bow.

“My apologies Doctor Bashir, for my earlier rudeness. I’m certain that you can appreciate the deep intellectual unrest that a fascinating text can hold.”

“Oh please, “Doctor Bashir” is so formal, I really would rather you just call me Julian.” He nearly smiles, but decides that a showing of teeth might not be the best right now even considering the compliments he usually receives on his “boyish smile”.

“Well in any case, _Julian_ ,” Garak amends and something about that accent on Julian’s name, that extra syllable as he says “jee-oo lian” is terribly charming, “I’m sure that you and I will have a most enlightening time. Although as I’ve explained to my dear Kelas, it’s not necessary.”

Julian sees Garak’s hand stealing back towards the book only to be met with another sharp rap with the paper, this time on his knuckles.

“I think that’s enough for one day, Elim. See, now this is _exactly_ why I need someone to mind you. Just imagine your emotional upset if you’d gotten into Nietzsche. You remember what happened to poor Pythas Lok. He was never quite the same after reading So Sayeth Zarathrustra and they had to put the poot dear down.”

 _“Put him down?”_ Julian mouths to Kelas wondering what on Earth could _possibly_ warrant putting an animal down because of a book, but he just sees Garak give a very human roll of his eyes as he chastises Kelas for giving any weight to such a ludicrous story.

“I just spoke with Lok last week, Kelas.”

 

“It’s for your own good, Elim… and besides, you wouldn’t want me to worry about you while I’m away, would you?” Julian sees some big eyed look shot towards Garak, lingering as Garak glares, wattage turned up and following with a nudge of shoulders,  and Julian wonders for a weird moment exactly which one of them is the pet here. Wonders as he just smiles again. He’d learned that from Kelas himself incidentally when he was just starting his residency, the kindly old doctor always with a smile and a “that should be the worst thing that happens to you” that always set him at ease. _Right, kindly old doctor,_ Julian thinks as he watches Garak sigh and give a butt of the shoulder back as Kelas beams brighter than the sun looking at Julian over his spectacles with a little wink.

 

Julian wonders if Kelas hasn’t neatly manipulated the both of them.

 

Rather than dwell on it, Julian decides a change of subject is in order.

“I’m sure that Garak and I will be fine. I did have one question though. The paper said that he’s not allowed to have any chocolate?” Surely that’s a safe topic of conversation. Julian sees the way that Garak’s eyes light up when he says that word and isn’t sure whether or not he should be concerned.

“Now that is _thoroughly_ incorrect,” Garak protest immediately looking to Kelas with something akin to betrayal. “An egregious and offensive mischaracterization if I’ve ever hear one. I have no digestive issues with chocolate whatsoever have you… brought any chocolate?” Garak asks, tone immediately conciliatory as Kelas sighs. He slips from around Parmak, approaching Julian with an excited sway to his walk, his tail idling left and right like a metronome that Julian can’t take his eyes away from. That is until he realizes that Kelas is shooting him an odd expression and Garak is looking around him bodily as if expecting to see chocolate appear at any moment.

 

Still, Garak’s motions are hypnotic and there’s an attractiveness to the open expression, to his eyes, to that happy little mouth, and Julian has a weird flash to some milk cow hentai he watched once (not that he’s into that sort of thing!) as he wonders exactly what sort of happy noises a lizard makes as Garak’s tongue pokes out _scenting the air_ , Julian’s mind pedantically supplies as if Garak is checking the veracity of his claim with growing disappointment..Julian almost wants to tell him yes and offer to feed him some missing the eager eyes lighting up and the curle of his mouth.. _Oh god, stuff that idea right now, whatever is going on here you fool you want no part of whatever this is!_

 

“Er… no, sorry. Didn’t… think to bring anyway. Not much for sweets and all,” Julian lies feeling just a slight bit guilty at the pout that follows. He has a feeling that it’s better if Garak doesn’t know about his secret stash.

“You know that chocolate makes you excitable, Elim,” Kelas scolds.

“Excitable?” Julian squeaks.

“Another slanderous mischaracterization and besides,” Garak adds, giving a strange look to Kelas, “From the stories you’ve told me... and from the… air, I shouldn’t think that your colleague would object to any excitement on my part.” There’s a sly grin at that back in his direction and Julian… blanks. _Stories? He’s been talking to his pet about me?_ “Isn’t that right, Julian?” He has no idea where this conversation is going, or where it already went, but Julian nods dumbly anyway.

 

“Sure… right. Be as ah… excitable as you want.” Julian sees Parmak blink at him in surprise a few times before looking a bit suspicious between them both.

“Hmm well stories aside, I trust that you remember everything _else_ I told you as well, Elim so I expect you to be on your best behavior and not take advantage of Julian’s kindness. Now don’t be afraid to tell him no and take a firm hand with him if he needs it,” Kelas says, putting two hands on Julian’s shoulders.

“You have a kind heart Julian, and Elim likes getting his way but I trust you.”

“Stories?“ Julian asks a step behind, his brain starting to play catch up which is laughable considering that he’s-.

“Elim really should know better than to speak on matters he’s only part of the information now I may have heard a few things from some of the interns… that’s not to say that I put any stock in them mind you I mean… the impracticality of some of them,” Kelas says sounding a touch breathless to Julian’s incredibly confused ears. “Ah, but you and I can discuss that more when I return should things go well with Elim. Yes I… really should be going,” Kelas murmurs, Julian swearing that he feels a squeeze to his bicep. “You have my phone number so you can text me should the need arise-” a snort from Garak and a murmur of “he has your number alright,” that Julian isn’t sure he was supposed to hear. There are implications and things he swears are going on here, but if he stops and wells on them overly long he’s sure it will only unsettle him so he shoves it all into a neat little corner to unpack later. Much later. Like at home watching AGT with Jadzia and ice cream later.

“Oh yes! I wouldn’t want you to be late for your flight and I think that Garak and I will get along just splendidly,” Julian assures him mindful of the time having no clue what the hell just happened but sure that’s all for the best. “So-” he begins seeing Garak slipping behind Kelas as he does, arms around him. _So you should probably make yourself scarce, Julian before you intrude on something you’re not supposed to see._ Or even something he _is_ supposed to see but is far better off avoiding. Julian takes a step back politely averting his eyes at the sight of Kelas with a tip back of his head and a boneless sink back into the large lizard man behind him.. “So I’ll just leave you to your… goodbyes,” he finishes lamely swearing that Garak’s mouth is on Kelas’ neck ridges, the scales swelling and flushing darker.

 

“Oh, you don’t need to leave, Julian, Elim is just-”

“That’s fine!” Julian insists perhaps a bit too quickly backpedaling out so hard he’s sure there’s an accompanying sound effect. “I can… leave you two to your privacy.” He ignores Kelas’ confused expression, the smirk from Garak telling him all he needs to know as he nearly trips over his own feet in his haste to make a fast getaway.

“Privacy?” He hears Kelas calling after him.

“Is there a room I can use?!” Julian shouts back putting that _notatalldelicious_ image out of his head.

“Oh yes at the end of the hall but that’s ah... oh...” Julian blanches as Kelas stammers and he _swears_ he hears Garak murmuring about how “sensitive” Kelas is. Julian practically runs down that hallway that he’d seen when he first entered, shutting the door behind him with a slam. His heart is racing and he’s breathing heavily, still trying to digest just exactly what the hell is going on and what he’s gotten himself into.

 

There are so many questions rushing through his head as he throws his clothes in the dresser drawers and decides to hide his chocolate stash underneath his underwear. Julian can only imagine just what sort of “goodbye” Kelas is giving his “pet lizard”. Actually, scratch that, because if he starts imagining it’s only going to go places that are  better left untouched. But one thing is clear, Garak is absolutely a creature that’s not entirely Cardassian. Julian may have seen some fantastic HBO documentaries (and some couples damn dedicated to their roleplays) but he’s absolutely certain that none had of yet crossed into the chimera sci fi territory to this degree... right?

 

God he doesn’t even know. Julian doesn’t know anything except that he’s just going to take a deep breath and pretend that all of this is perfectly normal. Good choice, he thinks, because he’s calmed down enough to answer without his voice cracking when Kelas knocks at the door to give him a few last minute instructions. _Calm down, Julian? What’s the matter with you? You shouldn’t find any of this arousing, you’re pet sitting for god’s sake._ Though admittedly this is more into cat girl and boy territory than than anything else but- _But perhaps you ought to have your head examined when all’s said and done_ . Julian doesn’t know. He doesn’t know anything right now. No, scratch that; there’s one thing that he certainly _does_ know.

 

He will be damned if he lets that lizard anywhere near his chocolate!

 

* * *

 

Now when Julian had envisioned the way that he was going to spend the week, he imagined at most dropping a few vegetables and crickets into an aquarium and possibly cleaning it out if it became too messy. He thought perhaps he might make use of the study as Kelas had offered, and catch up on some email and research work, maybe even go out to meet up with a few friends and grab a slice of pizza once Friday rolled around. It most definitely did _not_ involve staring at a naked Cardassian lizard man with a tail reading manga on the end of a leather sectional.

 

At least that was how he passed the first day. Julian had received a seemingly endless string of texts from Kelas on the way to the airport full of varying suggestions and addendums to the list of instructions. There were suggestions for movies they might watch, books that Garak was absolutely _never_ to read, a request to keep the temperature in the house balmy, and of course a reminder not to let Garak have any chocolate no matter how much he begged for it. (Which made Julian think of “Gremlins” and he found himself wondering if chocolate would transform Garak into some sort of destructive monster.) .

 

Kelas had also said that Garak was especially fond of shoulder massages and having his neck ridges rubbed. Now Julian had never dated a Cardassian before. But he’d treated enough Cardassian children to know that the ridges, especially on the neck, could be very sensitive. Once developed into sexual maturity, that sensitivity tended to evolve to more mature implications. Julian wasn’t so sure if the same held true for Cardassians of Garak’s… species? Genus? Julian had no guess to where that divergence might occur but he was sure it couldn’t possibly go any further up than family. He wasn’t sure just how welcome any scientific curiosity along that vein would be either.

 

What he _does_ know is that running nothing but the fans in the summer heat is resulting in a house far warmer than he’s accustomed to. They’re near enough the ocean that the breeze helps, and Julian had assured Kelas before agreeing to house sit that he’s not especially sensitive to heat, but still. It’s hot. Hot enough that he’s given up any hope of wearing anything more than his black boxer briefs to bed – he was almost tempted to go completely starkers but with his luck he’d end up outside from a house fire with the entire neighborhood staring at him. He’d taken a cold shower before bed, and the ceiling fan is helping but…

 

Julian has still been tossing and turning for the last half hour trying to sleep. He probably should have expended more energy during daylight hours but well, awkwardness aside, there was a nice companionable silence to be found once Garak had confiscated the graphic novel he was reading and found himself fully immersed in the story. He seemed to have been sulking a bit after Kelas had taken his current reading focus and after spending an hour basking outside under the warm August sun, he’d come back in the house asking Julian if he had anything interesting that he might have a look at.

 

Julian happened to be reading a graphic novel, _Akame ga Kill!,_ happily ignoring his father’s constant castigations of his son being too old for “cartoons and comics”. The story started off with a fighter being taken in by a pretty girl, and went on to describe a group of assassins and a plot to overthrow the government. It was full of graphic violence and death, which Julian tended to shy away from, but he found the moral grays and questions it raised fascinating. Thus, when Garak approached him, Kelas’ words about his lizard’s literary agitation had rang in his ears wondering how such a work would be taken.

 

As he offered Garak the book, Julian only hoped that newspaper trick was universally effective and not just for Kelas. To Julian’s amazement, Garak was entranced by the story without that same unpleasant reaction he’d had to “Paradise Lost”. and Julian watched him settle in. That watching turned to an unconscious observation of the the studious sensual allure of Garak as the lizard rolled over and read. His large tail slowly idled back and forth, occasionally rising higher up in the air. Julian supposed that was a reaction to a particularly high moment of drama, but found such idle scientific speculations moved to the back of his mind as he took in the curious view.

 

Garak’s thighs came to a juncture at the thick tail, and where Cardassians - like humans and god, certainly like Kelas! - had a gluteal composition much the same, that tail took up a rather expansive swath of real estate. It left Julian with a myriad of intrusive questions that he dared not ask. Even so, that visual improbability didn’t keep his mind from wandering to Garak’s shoulders, to his mouth, to any part of his body that Julian could make out… oh poor choice of words there! He found himself distracted, more than once, just relieved that Garak was preoccupied enough that he didn’t seem to notice. Not that his distraction had any impact on his self appointed research.

 

Julian (when not perving on his colleague’s pet lizard) was on his tablet searching every avenue he could think of to figure out just what manner of creature Garak was. That turned out to be a complete waste of time; the Cardassian Government had a veil of secrecy around any information they didn’t wish to share with humans that was tighter than the internet firewall they helped the Chinese enact. A number of conspiracy theorists had proposed that the Cardassian government was behind nearly every bit of political espionage since the great alien Migration of 1950 and some even went so far as to suggest that the Chinese President himself was in fact a Cardassian in disguise. A ridiculous notion that had its fair share of supporters, not the least of which was Julian’s own mother. He could hear her in his head clucking her tongue at him over his “unnatural alien fetish”, imagining his father standing behind with a covert thumbs up.

 

Eventually Julian gave up the search, after the fiftieth Instant Message from his cousin Paddy asking him to Paypal a few quid for a concert (Why oh _why_ does Facebook need to tell everyone that he’s available and reading their shite?). Still, the day moved quickly enough until dinner as a result. Dinner was a curious affair;  he actually fried up a few patties out of Garak’s raw meat and veggie blend for himself finding it to be quite tasty as a sort of improvised cube steak. For Garak, Julian portioned out the cold blend into a dish, thinking it reminded him a lot of the raw diet that his friend Miles fed his dog. That is until Garak insisted that Kelas always rolled the mixture into little balls and fed him by hand from a plate. Julian was certain that Kelas wouldn’t have made such a glaring omission on the instruction sheet as much detail as he had supplied everywhere else and said as much to Garak.

 

“I assure you, Doctor Bashir, I wouldn’t _lie_ about such an important detail,” Garak protested sullenly from the floor of the adjoining breakfast nook as Julian looked between the prepared bowl and Garak’s pouting face. The kitchen table was unlike the formal dining room arrangement in that it was a traditional Japanese _kotatsu_ . Julian couldn’t imagine that it was ever cold enough in Florida for the heating element to be required, but  the overall concept made sense. With Garak’s unique physiology he could hardly sit properly in a chair, so the low table was ideal for him to kneel on the plush carpet, the other 3 sides of the table accompanied by floor resting chairs that a Google search told him were called _zaisu_.

 

“I told you that you can call me Julian, you know. Think we’re on a first name basis sharing books and all,” he said, face automatically conciliatory, friendly, charming by instinct while Julian asked himself just what he thought he was doing talking to Kelas’ lizard the way he did the barista at the hospital Starbucks. Oh he knew, he thought, looking at that tail slowly moving back and forth _._ It was enchanting, hypnotic, _seductive_ , his mind supplied unconsciously, and he could swear there was a moment when Garak caught the track of his eyes curling the heavy thing (surely it had to weigh a good two stone on its own!) coyly.

 

“And you wouldn’t think such... intimacy” did he use that word on purpose?!  “would afford me the benefit of your faith?” Another curl, a speculative tilt of the head, long tongue flicking, Julian averting his eyes like he was involved in some moment he shouldn’t be.

“Alright,” he agreed not sure if it was loud enough to be heard and found himself rolling the ground mixture into balls after all. It didn’t end there though. Each time he completed rolling one, he could hear a little noise of protest until he was checking with Garak that they were the proper shape and size after each one. First they were too large. Then they were too small. Then they weren’t round enough until Julian stopped, hands and kitchen a right mess as he gave Garak a long hard stare. “You’re having me on, aren’t you? There’s no way that Kelas actually does this _every_ meal.”

 

“If he did we might pass our meals more pleasantly,” Garak answered with another curious curling of  tail and a dramatic sigh.

“Would serve you right if I just tossed the whole mess back in the bowl,” Julian grumbled but… there was a look that he caught, or at least that he thought he did that left him shaking his head as he mimicked the approving head bobbing up and down rolling twelve of the stupid things before they were all cleared for quality with an absent flick of Garak’s serpent’s eyes over the cover of another dog eared book. “I’m not doing that for breakfast,” Julian declared as he cleaned up.

“I wouldn’t dream of making a second imposition,” Garak answered sanguine as he set aside _Thus Spoke Zarathustra_ , looking surprised when Julian kept the plate in the center of the table and picked up one of the balls with his hand. “Oh… oh you really don’t have to indulge me… Julian,” Garak said sounding off guard, the Julian sounding more like “Jeeyoolian”. It was nice to get a little leverage back.

 

“I thought Kelas said that you didn’t bite.” He teased. “Or was that another omission on the sheet?”

“Only if you’re not careful. Only if you don’t mind where your fingers go.”

“So then I… shouldn’t push them too deep, should I?” Julian asked feeling his heartbeat start to pick up wildly as he extended his arm, seeing Garak’s wide mouth open almost demurely. Julian proceeding to feed Garak anyway, finding that piercing reptilian gaze fixed on him intently the entire time. Garak’s tongue tasted Julian’s fingers as he licked at the remaining residue, and as Julian pushed his fingers in just a little deeper he was allowed a feel of teeth a little sharper than a human’s, definitely spaced out further and it was intriguing. There was another lick to that, longer, lingering, a play of the tongue over the pad of his index finger (perhaps it was just a thorough cleaning job but Garak’s eyes meeting his before he pulled back belied that thought). Fingered lingered on lips with one last laving lick to the tip and Julian counted seven somewhere in his head, the ritual slowing as they progressed and he reached nine lips parted slightly, breathing a little heavier, shifting on his knees from one leg to the other pins and needles possible that staunch of blood flow possibly the only reason that he wasn’t already-

 

“There,” that’s all of them, Julian half whispered with the last, fingers pruned like he’d spent an hour in the tub and though sunk into wet heat it wasn’t a bath but a sticky slick lizard mouth.

“It would seem yours may have gotten cold,” Garak pointed out, though he assured him that it wasn’t anything that a little nuking in the microwave couldn’t fix. Not that it mattered in the end. He was so distracted that Julian ate his own dinner barely remembering to chew. He was sure that he babbled quite a bit about his work and his family - anything to try and stick with safe subject and not think about anything else. At last he attempted to ask Garak about his family, hoping for some commonality that would absolve him from being some sort of sexual deviant (or a “scalie” as Google had helpfully supplied earlier).  That was met with a long stare and an obvious declaration that they were lizards as well and involved in little other than the activities that any other lizard would be involved in. _Yeah of course, “lizard things” like reading novels and yelling at the telly…_

 

“Right,” Julian had pressed “but like if I were to ask a dog about his mother he might say ‘well she was a damn fine runner, best in show, loved her red ball’, that sort of thing.”Garak had blinked at him with a deep sigh, and mumbled that Kelas had warned him that humans liked to ask “thoughtless questions”, before telling Julian like he was being tortured that she enjoyed making pots and gardening and that his father wasn’t a lizard so much as a bloated old miserable slug. Julian assumed that was hyperbole of some sort but given how little he knew of Cardassian flora and fauna he found himself nonetheless imagining some austere and portly slug man bearing some resemblance to Garak, slithering around the walk leaving a trail of slime. He nearly choked on the mineral water he’d poured - Garak liked the effervescence, Kelas’ text had said – and Garak shot him a dark look like he’d been reading his thoughts.

 

Garak then said irritably, changing the subject abruptly, that the Edossian Orchids that Kelas had growing on Cardassia Prime were good for making a rather useful toxin. He had thought to gift Kelas for his birthday after taking pains to make the extracted toxin as his mother had taught him in “an attractive bottle for convenient dispensary” and he had no idea why Kelas was “so sensitive about it when no one had _died_ ”. Julian thought he had a brief insight into why perhaps Kelas had wanted his lizard to be supervised after that. Garak had seemed rather bristly like a dog at that moment, his tail giving a few thumps on the woven mat beneath where they were sitting.

 

Well that seemed like a good segue into giving the ridges of his neck a good reassuring rub. Why he thought that absolutely had to be done right then and there when he’d finally come down from being so keyed up, Julian had no idea other than perhaps some previously undiscovered masochism on his part. He made the proposition (god what a word!) before he realized what he was offering, Garak’s look back to him unblinking, steady, and measured before he smiled wide, reptilian and asked Julian if his hands were up to performing as _firmly_ as he would require given the hard plating of the ridges of his shoulders.

“Challenge accepted,” Julian said cheeky as he got up to kneel behind him. Ah, and there was yet another awkward moment as he caught sight for the long tail resting on the floor and  realized he was going to have to straddle it.

 

“Is something the matter?” Garak asked innocently as he took a slow sip of water, as if he were waiting for Julian to decline. Well, if Julian was anyone he was a man who could always be dumbly dared into doing anything since being the smallest in his year desperate to provide himself. This was nothing, he told himself swallowing “nothing”, kneeling behind Garak knees on either side of Garak’s large tail, putting hands on his shoulder quite firmly, thank you!

“We’re good. Just ah… let me know if anything is uncomfortable,” Julian mumbles before giving a hard squeeze, finding that those hard plates weren’t quite as unyielding as he’d thought. Either that or his grip was a good deal stronger than he’d realized, yep, the right hand definitely better there as he heard Miles telling him in his head that he usually reserved the left for a special occasion and that brain tangent while annoying at least helped him keep focused on the massage itself.  

 

Julian counted all of two minutes that his pleasure with Garak’s encouragement remained completely innocent. He found that the longer he kept at it the more throaty and obscene those noises of approval were becoming. Julian counted five minutes before the soft encouraging murmurs stopped being verbal entirely and had morphed to a rhythmic bob of the head and low  hisses that ceased just a moment when Julian’s thumbs stopped at a softer cluster of ridges at his neck followed by a long slow “tsss”, drawn in breath, and Julian looked up with a blink out of a daze an a soft query of “Garak?”

“I assure you I’m… not distressed,”followed not _sounding_ distressed but… but something else that gave Julian an anxious drop in his stomach not daring to look down to see if Garak was… was _nothing_ because these weren’t the sorts of thoughts one general held while pet sitting. Still, curiosity nipped at him as he noted that those ridges had taken on a darkened tint, feeling hot and more pliable beneath his grip the more that he worked. He could feel powerful shoulders muscles shifting, relaxing, see Garak slump just a bit, head seeming to fight a loll from side to side.

 

Julian could feel the warmth from Garak’s body, acutely aware of the heat that tail was radiating between his knees… unless it was all in his head since lizards were supposed to be cold blooded. Julian thought he might have been losing his mind then but he’d let himself lean in just a bit, smelling him, catching a scent of dry desert air and a sweet flowery smell like some cactus flower. He pressed on with that spot, working it, hearing another gasp, Garak’s head tipped back nearly boneless, Julian catching sight of that tongue scenting the air just like a proper lizard and just once more, just a little he pressed again, swearing that he hears his name with a blink of bleary eyes from Garak and God if that sound didn’t go right to his-

 

* * *

 

Julian smacks the side of his head angrily, coming back to the present, sitting up on the bed with a frustrated groan. _This is why you can’t sleep, Julian. You’ve been able to pass out cold in worse than this. It’s not the temperature; it’s the_ _other_ _kind of heat._ He falls back on the bed with another loud moan of frustration remembering that he’d nearly tripped over himself to back out of _that_ situation rounding out the night with a nice safe watch of the new Nova seated as far away from Garak on the sofa as humanly possible. Garak seemed none too perturbed by the action as he half dozed on his side languidly before retiring for the night and wishing Julian a pleasant sleep. Kelas had said that the cage door locked from both sides but he only locked it from the house end if there was a real need for it. Julian didn’t particularly see one so he let it go.

 

Chocolate. Julian decides that’s what he needs. He usually has some with dinner, and he’s sure it’s just that wicked sugar craving setting him off since he’d been forced to skip it. Julian gives a listen for a moment making sure he doesn’t hear Garak up and about. Nope, nothing. Certain that he’s asleep, Julian roots through the drawer and takes out the bar to indulge, practically orgasmic as he sits cross legged on the bed in the dark with just the light from his tablet, some restful Enya playing on Youtube as he eats.

 

The first melt is always the best, the sweet milk chocolate quickly pooling on his tongue, thick and sweet before slipping down his throat, making his close his eyes with a wicked lick of lips painting a faint residue of Lindt rather than really clean anything. He’s already unwrapped the bar, the next piece softening between his thumb and index finger, forcing him to lick them clean, a soft suck between his lips as his tongue sweeps playfully, another soft moan following the chant of _The Celts_ as he helps himself to another, the cacao aroma all around him as he shivers another break of the bar, another melt, another curl of his toes to the mattress as he swears he’s stopping at the fourth break. Julian gives himself a mental pat for discipline as sticky fingers finish scrolling through his Twitter, then his email, catching a post dated note from Kelas sent a day earlier asking him to shoot a quick message back letting him know how things are going. Julian shakes his head as he types out a quick reply. Garak really wasn’t exaggerating Kelas’ unnecessary worry!

 

Julian yawns, trying to remember the time difference before giving up and hitting send. Kelas should see it when he lands anyway, and Julian is already feeling a crash come down as late as it is. He barely remembers to slip his chocolate back in the drawer. Should he brush his teeth again? Oh hell, he’s sure he’ll be fine and the dentist always said he had exceptionally strong enamel. Julian skims through a few more news stories before setting the tablet down, having already Googled “I think I’m into lizards” and being cheerfully informed that makes him a “scalie” [or something or other] deciding that he really just needs to sleep. After all, there’s one day down and this whole crazy thing will be over before he knows it; that the last thing that he thinks before drifting off into a happy chocolate coma on top of the covers, the mattress warm beneath him.

 

And then he’s woken up with a start when he feel a weight settling on top of him.

 

His first instinct is to scream and shove at whatever the mass is. After that initial reaction passes and the weight only hisses and settles down harder he realizes exactly what it is.

“Garak?” he asks into the darkness awash with confusion. There isn’t an immediate answer. He supposes that’s good because it allows him a bit more time to process exactly what’s going on. Julian realizes a few things in the moments that pass. The first is that he becomes acutely aware of Garak’s position on top of him. It’s hard to miss really because Garak is straddling his hips, that juncture between those beautiful thighs so warmly settled around him. Second he... shit he’s hard and Garak’s weight bearing down on his cock as he practically _vibrates_ nearly makes Julian decide to start hissing right along with him. The third is chocolate; the strong aroma of chocolate pervades the room and Kelas’ warning rings out in his head like a symphony. Well... fuck.

 

The term “scalie” unhelpfully reverberates in his head.

 

“Garak,” he repeats with urgency though it comes out more like a small squeak. Garak needs to move... off of him! Right, Garak needs to move _off of him_ and Julian is starting to become worried when Garak doesn’t respond to the second calling of his name. At least it begins to dampen the ridiculous lust, and Julian’s hands are on Garak’s hips as he tries to sit up, tries to urge Garak off him while he whispers “shh... it’s alright... it’ll be alright but you need to... to move...” Oh... Oh moving hips up is bad... so bad... Kelas is going to kill him. Alright, Kelas said it wouldn’t _hurt_ him. Garak said he was-

“It _hurtssss...._ ” Julian hears rasped out looking up with the streetlight dimly shining through the sliver of a part in the curtains. It would be hard to see for a normal person, but his eyes adjust quickly and he can see Garak looking down on him, those slit pupils large, fixated on him with an intensity that makes him shiver and curl his fingers into Garak’s hips.

 

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have kept it. I should have put it in the car or-” Or... Or Garak is taking his right wrist and moving it, repeating that it _hurts_ , and guiding it to his... Julian’s eyes get wide in the darkness and his attention snaps down immediately to to Garak’s- _“You know that chocolate makes you excitable, Elim...”_ Oh. Oh! Oh oh shit shit... aaand he’s back to being turned on. _‘Least you’re not the only one,_ his mind supplies completely unhelpfully when he feels the swollen scales of Garak’s _ajan_ , feels that slit parted, slick.... Julian licks his lips tasting lingering chocolate. Not just slick- _soaked_. His fingers could just slip so easily into the wet softness of that parted slit and... and he feels the backs of his fingers pressing against his trapped cock making him bite his lip and try to breathe deeply because he’s aware that the only sounds he’s managing right now are shallow pants.

 

He doesn’t... he doesn’t want to assume this is okay just because Garak is in the throws of some sort of heat because a dog might hump his leg but that doesn’t mean it would appreciate him spinning it ‘round and buggering it. Alright now _that_ image is unpleasant enough to give him pause.

“Garak? Garak? Can you hear me? er... answer me properly or... I... I’m not sure what I sh-should... what you want me to do or what I should... ah... ah... oh god.” There’s a shift, a few bounces, and Julian can feel that wetness seeping through the thin fabric of his shorts, hot, so much hotter than Garak’s body, giving his prick no question as to what needs to be done. He feels the grip on his wrist tighten. Okay, he kind of likes that.

 

“Tsss... ssssssink... ssssould be… obviousss...” he hears Garak hiss through gritted teeth, pronunciation slurring. He sounds almost angry- Julian is amazed that he can somehow read that emotion- and Julian doesn’t know why Garak would think that he would just _know_ to- _“Sure… right. Be as ah… excitable as you want, it’s… it’s your house...”_ His own words come back to haunt him in that moment. _Ah... right... of course stupid. Why wouldn’t he think this is okay?_ Right. Lesson learned. So now that that’s settled they can roll credits and a good laugh can be had by all. Except for the fact that Garak clearly needs some sort of release and Julian wildly remembers his aunt telling him that her cat Martha sometimes needed a little helping hand with a pencil eraser and where Julian is going to get a pencil that big at this time of night and what the hell is wrong with him  thinking of _that_ anecdote now?!

 

 _Oh you’ve got a pencil, Julian, retractable eraser and all._ If he said that to himself in a club he’d slap himself silly and follow it up with a drink to the face and-

“Gulssss.... sstop ss-tsinking ssso loudly...” He hears Garak growl hiss, lowering his head, a thump of his tail to Julian’s shin agitated, those eyes boring into his. “Are you... going to ...t-take care of thisss?” He squeezes Julian’s wrist again almost painfully and Julian feels finger slipping inside that wetness so good, so good and he’s trying to remember his Cardassian biology except he’s sure that the _ajan_ doesn’t go in that far even with the _prUt_ uneverted but Garak isn’t exactly a Cardassian and... and Garak’s ridges are dark, swollen on his face, on his neck that he can see and he hears Garak hiss again in seeming pleasure when Julian presses his fingers in deeper. “Yesss... there...” Julian hears, and finds Garak’s forehead pressed to his shoulder with a growl, Garak’s hips moving and now that Julian thinks about it Garak’s anatomy almost seems backwards where the normal hemipenis would be on an actual lizard.

Julian stops himself there and asks does it really matter right now? _No, Julian. No, it fucking doesn’t_ . _Okay, good chat. That’s settled then good. Glad that’s out of the way._ The term “scalie” pops into his head again and he swats it away like an errant old fly buzzing in his ear because hello, there are certain some scales in need of attention and- Julian fucks Garak slowly with his fingers, feeling those soft wet walls contracting in around them, feeling Garak’s _prUt_ starting to evert, brushing past his fingers blooming out into full hardness, full length and alright come to think of it Garak’s slit seemed longer than Julian thought was standard for a normal Cardassian so okay... cloaca or something ah something that feels so good the more he lets his fingers fuck into it... Oh he hates that he has to keep thinking like a doctor but-

 

“It’s... it’s okay if I put my cock in you? I don’t want to hurt you if it’s too deep...” Not that he’s bragging, mind but if the opening is only so deep before causing problems or not rightly intended for that or... or Garak’s released his wrist. In response, Julian reluctantly takes his hand away thinking that consideration might have some weight. But that’s not what it is at all. Garak fumbles between the both of them- between the fly opening of Julian’s shorts- yanking his prick through just this side of painful but... but so good. Garak strokes him with a shaky hand, whispering to Julian’s neck that it’s just what he needs, it’s perfect, the bigger the better, and would Julian be a dear and just “puts the Guls damned thing in already” before he pushes off a shoulder, sitting back before Julian can say anything further.

 

He doesn’t see why Garak would even ask if he was just going to do it himself but Julian has just rather brilliantly discovered that he can put his hands back on Garak’s hips now, let them rub those perfect thighs and just _dig in_ when Garak finally sinks down slowly on his cock one delirious inch at a time, his own _prUt_ everting more fully with each throbbing hard measure taken in and... And Julian swears to the Gods in all the pantheons that he’s buying more chocolate first thing tomorrow.

 

Garak doesn’t move immediately and it gives Julian a moment of concerned pause. But as Julian looks up, he doesn’t see distress; he sees Garak’s head back, panting, staring towards the ceiling, mouth just a little slack with slow steady breaths out like he’s trying to adjust to something particularly invasive. He recalls for a moment that Garak had said the bigger the better, but there’s saying something and experiencing it for one’s self and well, Julian wouldn’t call it _bragging_ exactly but his cock may be just a little more generously gifted on the larger side of average. No, not naturally (“thanks, dad”) because that isn’t something that runs in the family but rather, it’s a side effect of his father’s greedily signing him up as a guinea pig for some “$1000 a week accelerate your child’s development with Nugenics” scheme.

 

Julian’s just thankful all he ended up with out of the deal was sensitive eyes and a willie this side more generous of average.

 

Julian recalls – though he’s hardly an expert – that fully developed male Cardassian genitals tend to favor girth over length and that’s no slight intended to Kelas (assuming the doctor actually has had that sort of a relationship with his “pet” although Julian will eat his own socks if he hasn’t). So while the _ajan_ is perfectly suited to accommodate length girth is another matter and there is some complementary biology, he has no idea about “lizards” as such. He would also rather not have a repeat of the “Sarina incident” where an overly enthusiastic cervical penetration resulted in him being thrown off the bed and breaking his wrist in his second year of med school and didn’t _that_ get a good laugh from his fellow pediatrics classmate Hayes. Julian doesn’t particularly want to imagine the nature of a poor reaction that a creature such as this might have so-

 

“Is it… too big?” Julian asks with as much consideration as he can muster and okay, there may be a bit of ego wrapped up in that question too but he’s only human after all… more or less. There isn’t an immediate answer but he can see Garak work on breathing more steadily, deeply in and out like a meditation and he almost asks if a little music might help, He doesn’t though, and as a distraction Julian allows his hands to run along the ridges of Garak’s thighs up, around his hips, back, his fingers brushing the underside of Garak’s impressive tail.

“I…” He sees Garak swallow as the words are forced out. “I may have… underessstimated sse...” He shifts, and Julian’s eyes go back just a moment because _god_ he didn’t think he could go further in but there it is. Secondary _cujan_ , Julian’s brain supplies with his xenobiology pedigree.

“I… I can take it out,” Julian whispers though really Garak’s weight on him sort of puts the onus on the lizard to try and move but-

 

“Too much... It’sss… s-sso…” Alright, well, maybe he can sort of lift him off if he gives it a good try but Garak’s weight is intractable and it’s not like he ended up with any sort of enhanced strength (that was more Jack's specialty lucky bastard) so he- “Ssso good…” Garak gasps and oh… oh that definitely changes the narrative then. Julian squeezes the soft but still muscled flesh right where thighs and hips meet tail and there’s an answering flick of said tail followed by a clench of Garak’s _ajan_ and Julian groans loudly. That passage is _magical_ , he decides, mind made up that while it may be some multipurpose thing it is absolutely made for fucking.

 

There’s tight muscle that grips the base of his cock but almost feels like it’s trying to force him back out- a constant pushing pressure followed by just heavenly hot wet walls wanting to suck him in as deep as he can push even without any real motion yet from Garak.

“C-can you?...” Move a little, he wants to beg. Just a little because Julian thinks he’s about to go crazy and with Garak’s tail he can’t think of any other position at the moment that would allow him to hold Garak’s hips and pound into him. Maybe he’ll think of more when thought is clear again. Who knows? He sure doesn’t.

 

“I jussst need a… ssso good… ssso good… gulssss human…” Julian hears, feeling Garak shift, the bed bouncing beneath them and well… Garak’s likely stronger than him so if he really objects he can damn well do something about it because Julian needs to _move_ . The mattress makes it simple too. Between his grip on Garak’s thighs and the bed, there’s an easy spring back and Julian’s hips move, eyes roaming eagerly all over Garak’s body as it starts to bounce up and down. It’s slow at first, those hisses growing louder until Garak’s body is hunched over while he looks Julian in the eyes with delirious heat. Julian watches the little shake of his stomach, down to the slap of Garak’s _prUt_ against his _chuva_ drawing out a series of growls from him.

 

Christ he’s hot. Maybe lizard is some strange Cardassian term for a creature bred for nothing but sex. Could that really be a thing? Would it even be ethical? Why does Julian think weird stupid things like this at such inopportune times? He’s pretty sure that his ex had asked a similar question when he’d suddenly stopped and asked _“how_ _is_ _a raven like a writing desk?”_ though it devolved into a rather loud argument over the correct answer to the riddle: they both had inky quills according to Julian and “Poe wrote on both” according to Jack.

 

He’s certain that he’s never had a relationship end over something so ridiculous in his life.

 

Fortunately for Julian’s wandering thoughts, Garak finally starts moving, the muscles of his thighs rocking his body up down, hips moving, each little motion making the most heady friction that pushes every stupid recollection and anecdote that Julian has out of his brain for the moment. He hears more encouraging hisses and feels Garak’s hands to his shoulders holding his upper body down leaving Julian little else to move but his lower half. God that’s deep, tight, so good, Garak’s face nearly to his smelling of chocolate and it’s making Julian’s mouth water just a bit.

 

“Kiss me?” he pleads thinking that the odds of his cutting his tongue on one of Garak’s sharp teeth are pretty damn high but not caring. Garak looks dubious a moment as well. “Please?” Julian asks again with another tilt of his hips, seeing Garak’s eyes close to his, slit pupils blown wide hesitating just a moment longer before lowering onto his forearms with a sound that’s somewhere between a sigh and a growl. Julian moves his neck as best as he can so that their mouths can meet, tasting that pilfered warm chocolate on Garak’s lips with a moan. He licks it from the corner of Garak’s mouth, feeling a growl rumble through that point of contact.

“Curioussss…” is hissed hotly and Julian teases a tickle to that wisp of an opening.

 

Garak’s tongue tentatively pokes out and meets his back. It doesn’t quite seem that he’s ever done this before (r _eally, what gave it away, Julian?_ ) and that’s sort of brilliant. Julian gives another swipe with his tongue, slipping between Garak’s parted lips a quick dart in and out a smile spreading a moment when he hears a hissed gasp and feels a slight clench around his cock that makes him flex a pulsing of pelvic muscle in return. Garak mimics the tentative tap as Julian slips his tongue in deeper with that invitation, not caring if he does nick it on one of Garak’s teeth.

 

Garak responds by licking at him more eagerly, allowing that entrance, motions stopping while their tongues lap and lick at the other. Julian on a whim, starts stroking the underside of Garak’s tail, feeling a tension that makes him pull tighter around Julian’s cock so nicely that Julian strokes it more. As he pets, as he rubs, he feels Garak’s breaths hissed out harshly against his mouth.

“Don’t...” reaches his ears and he stops immediately, asking if that’s bad. There’s a pause and Julian is afraid that he might have made a misstep until there’s a stuttered confession that it’s too much, too good.

 

Oh... well that’s a much different story then, Julian thinks as he rubs the smooth scales under Garak’s tail, toying with the juncture of tail meeting hind. Suddenly Garak is surging forward, pinning Julian back down, mouth covering his but not moving, just... just breathing. But while Garak’s upper body is almost frozen, Julian feels his legs slide out wider, letting his full weight sink on Julian’s hips and shit Garak’s just _writhing_ on top of him, sliding up down, his _prUt_ pressing between their molded bodies, spasming lightly, warm fluid spilling and Julian feels Garak sink back, stopped, soft walls clenching so tightly Julian doesn’t even think he _can_ come.

 

Until he is and it’s squeezed out of him, his prick pulsing hard, one wave after another until he thinks he might black out. He thinks he might not even keep breathing if it weren’t for Garak’s open mouthed breathing into his. It’s not a kiss but fucking CPR; it’s the only thing keeping those spots from finalizing to a blissful darkness. God, that was intense and Julian really could believe that Garak is some kind of fantastic Cardassian designed sex pet. That is before he feels Garak’s head gently lol to the side of his and he realizes that the lizard is asleep. The heavy lizard is asleep on top of him and his attempts to budge said lizard are only resulting in low, dangerous growls. The sharp teeth seem especially pertinent now as do the claws that Julian hadn’t payed much mind to before. He may have to put some antiseptic on the scratches to his shoulders. Well, that can be dealt with in the morning. Julian sighs, supposing that it might not be the most comfortable sleep but a sleep well worth it.

 

He doubles down on that thought when he’s woken up an hour later for a long half conscious second round.

 

* * *

 

When he wakes up he finds the weight gone and takes a good long shower trying to figure out if he’s just done anything illegal. He has no idea how the hell he’s going to go back out there and look Garak in the eyes. Julian doesn’t know if there’s some custom he should be observing either some courtship or er… he swallows down the word “mating” and swears he’s going to treat the encounter as he would any other heated one night stand. _Well, Julian if you were entertaining a guest after a night like that you’d be up making a nice spot of breakfast. Except you know you’re sort of the lizard sitter and that’s what you’re supposed to be doing anyway._ Do lizards even eat pancakes? Would that be weird?

 

Hell, he doesn’t even know if that was just mindless some chocolate fueled mania that gripped Garak and he’s going to get murdered if he even goes near him. Julian’s forehead hits the tiles as he curses himself for not being more careful. He should’ve just put the chocolate in the car straight away and there wouldn’t be an issue right now. God, he thinks as he gingerly soaps over the scratches hoping he doesn’t end up in the hospital with some sort of alien “cat scratch fever”, he’s screwed up royally this time. Alright well, he decides all he can do is go out in his shorts and ratty old “Sex Pistols” shirt and play it by ear, and if Garak is owed an apology then Julian will spend the rest of the week making it up to him.

 

When he finally walks into the living room freshly washed and bandaged, he almost feels like it’s a walk of shame in a fresh pair of clothes. _Still better than the midnight pregnancy test trip that you’ve had to go with Palis on._ Julian can hear his mother in his head demanding to know how a doctor could be so irresponsible. And she wonders why he never tells her anything. Julian doesn’t immediately see Garak but supposes he’s likely in his habitat ( _dear god, Julian, you’ve just fucked something that has a “habitat”...)._ Well, the cage door... The patio door! He’s not going to be able to do this if he keeps thinking of Garak as some sort of _animal_. Julian swallows hard seeing that the door is open and walks out barefoot after giving a brief knock on the door frame. He doesn’t hear any protest and he walks out scanning for Garak in the bright August sun. He’s thankful that the patio is shaded because his eyes have always been a bit sensitive to bright sunlight.

 

Well, not always, he thinks, wishing that his father had volunteered himself instead of his “slow underdeveloped son” (thanks a lot, old man, ask me again when I’m ever coming home to visit). Of course Nugenics had closed up shortly after that “study” as well, tanked by a class action lawsuit and the government so all in all he’s thankful that _he_ doesn’t have a bloody tail like the control group. Oh, but then again if it wasn’t for those stupid trials he wouldn’t have met _Jack_ and Jack’s fantastic mouth in particular (no matter how badly that breakup ended up down the line) when they hooked up at a party later in college and rekindled their “mutant bond”… No, no, his old man can _still_ rot in hell.

 

And speaking of tails, Garak’s rather prominent one is on display as he lays on the large sunning rock basking in the warm sun. Julian can see his chin resting his his hands, eyes closed. That tail idly dusts back and forth, one leg bent, knee at Garak’s waist, giving such a nice view of those thighs and shit, that’s doing things to Julian that he’d already sworn he wasn’t going to think about!

 

“Garak?” he calls realizing his voice is just a bit tight. “I was going to make breakfast if that’s alright?” He clears his throat as Garak raises an indifferent hand to acknowledge that he heard him. Julian isn’t quite sure how to read that so instead he beelines back inside and uses the last of Garak’s meal mix to roll twelve more balls exactly to spec from yesterday because why not? If he’s done something egregious it’s a drop in the bucket to amends but well it’s something at least.

 

Out of habit, he locates the ingredients for his favorite pancakes, halfway whisking the batter before he realizes that one, Garak likely can’t even eat pancakes, and two that it’s an awfully tasteless thing to do. Well he can hardly throw it out and waste food (his Aunt Emmeline in his head banging on about the starving Bajorans like clockwork every time since that summer he’d spent in “the pleasant town of Doncaster”. Pleasant maybe for the medieval peasants shitting in the streets but not so much for twelve year old Julian) so he goes on and makes a good dozen anyway. He might snack on them later cold with peanut butter or jam. Julian has the stack finished nicely when he turns and sees Garak standing there behind him practically on top of him.

 

Julian jumps with a yelp, almost retreating a step back but Garak is already boldly pushing past him, eyes on the plate.

“I hope you’ll forgive the intrusion my dear. I had caught the most enchanting aroma coming from the kitchen and I couldn’t help but investigate. Ah, where are my manners?” Garak steps back eyes not leaving the plate. “Good morning, Julian,” he says to the pancakes and Julian grins feeling some of the tension ease out. Alright then, so last night couldn’t have been that awful of a misstep.

“Good morning, Garak,” Julian answers amused, deciding it might be best to focus on the plate as well instead of the close proximity of Garak’s naked body.

 

“Those are ah... pancakes. Though I don’t imagine they’d sit well with you. They’re mostly flour and I don’t think that was on the sheet.” Julian nearly starts as Garak’s eyes catch his, a clear hint of mischief there.

“Yes, the sheet, so thoughtful of Kelas to be sure to see that my needs are tended to in his absence but as you may have noticed, Julian, the sheet didn’t cover everything.” Was Garak really suggesting that-?

“Right... well um you know it’s not my place to m-make those determinations and I... I wanted to apologize for last night. I shouldn’t have let you have at any of that chocolate and anything er... as a result I’m so terribly-”

“Sorry?” Garak asks blinking at his quizzically. “I should think it fairly obvious you’ve little to be sorry for, that was quite an admirable performance. Perhaps a bit more effort than I’m accustomed to on my part, a bit of muscle soreness but Kelas does worry over what he calls my “lack of proper exercise” so that’s to be expected. Was there something not to your liking?”

 

Julian opens his mouth and shuts it again. Garak’s lack of concern in last night, in their... god in that incredible double round of the best sex of Julian’s life, had just happily unclamped the stranglehold that his moral chains were holding over his libido. Julian happens to notice today that Garak’s _chufa_ is an exceptional shade of blue- his _chula_ as well and he isn’t quite sure what that means. He doesn’t dare think to look further down yet.

“Oh no! No, not at all that was ahh... well fuck me, that was incredible but it was ehm... primarily an effect of the chocolate, wasn’t it?” Julian asks still somewhat uncertain. Now Julian is hardly prone to blushing, but the sweep of eyes that Garak gives up his body is suggestive enough to leave little doubt to his feelings on their encounter last evening. Still, he’s not sure that Kelas would exactly appreciate Julian buggering his pet lizard.

 

“You shouldn’t sell yourself short, Julian,” Garak answers with a slide around him that nearly has his shorts tight, practically dancing over to the pancakes. “Now as for these delightful looking discs, I’m sure just one wouldn’t hurt anything...” Julian sees his tail swishing eagerly and just... melts, nodding his head like one of those stupid bobble heads. Before he knows it, he finds both of them at the table once more, Julian hand feeding Garak bites of pancake drizzled in a quick strawberry syrup he’d whipped up. The moans that reach his ears between those thoughtful bites have absolutely made Julian’s shorts tight, have made him half hard, and he’s certain that Garak is deliberately licking his fingers to tease him, any reticence about his mouth long gone.

 

Julian finishes his own meal in record time, Garak inspiring an interesting discussion on _Animal Farm_ and the politics of the Cold War scare tactics that manage to calm him back down. Julian adds that it was a blessing for the “Alien Intervention” of 1962 as it had come to be called or else he couldn’t imagine what sort of world they would live in today with possible out of control nuclear proliferation and a Cold War that could’ve carried on well into the twenty first century. Julian then finds himself debating the matter of his perception of Garak’s lack of agency and freedom with the lizard. That goes on a good while in fact, Garak seeming to just become more exasperated as Julian “fails to understand from an unbiased cultural perspective”.

 

“Your problem is that you’re still continuing to approach the matter with the influence of your own culture’s egregious missteps with other human populations. What you fail to understand Julian,” he says at last, “is that lizards were first engineered - we didn’t evolve naturally to any part of Cardassia. We’re not a complementary species or subspecies the way that you’re thinking and thus didn’t evolve organically or tribally. I’m not sure what you seem to think that I should want to _do_ with this nebulous concept of “freedom”. Have an occupation? Live in the wild like some idyllic old Earth author writing pastoral prose and fornicating with sheep? I assure you I’m quite content to read my books and converse with interesting people and...” Garak looks at him slyly changing tact. “-perhaps rather than rail against your human notions of injustice, you might ease my plight with more chocolate.”

 

“That can’t possibly be good for you,” Julian protests finding that their talk is only further complicating matters. “You already ate half a pound last night and even if Cardassian lizards have no issue metabolizing theobromine...” Garak is looking at him almost bored now. “You know there was a recent case study of an eighty year old woman presenting to the emergency room unconscious and having seizures, stomach ache, constipation-” Garak yawns at him and Julian frowns, about to go in again before he continues quite firmly.

“First,” Garak says holding up a hand, “as I’m sure you may have noticed, my dear, I’m not an eighty year old woman. Second, Kelas’ concern stemmed primarily from a perception of any unwelcome advances on my part which I believe we’ve addressed. Lastly,” Garak gives a dramatic pause and lays a hand over Julian’s across the table. “I would very much like more chocolate Julian and I would be exceedingly grateful if you were to procure some for me.” He gives a squeeze, gives what Julian somehow recognizes as a seductively tilt of his head, a flick of his long tongue, not blinking, and Julian’s eyes hone in on that contact.

 

“Right but... isn’t Kelas concerned about your diet because ah... possible...” Julian swallows. “-weight gain?” Garak lets go of his hand and for a moment Julian is concerned he’s said something offensive. Except Garak stalks over to him around the table on all fours, every bit of his body on display as he sits back still kneeling.

“Was I mistaken in my belief that you were quite fond of my figure the way it is?” Julian’s mind is like white noise right about now as he looks up and down Garak’s tempting plump middle, his soft chest and just... swallows a whimper. Well that answers the question whether or not that blue tint extends down to his _chuva,_ he thinks dumbly.

“No... no not... not at all I... god I fucking love your body,” he says remembering vividly how good the weight of him felt, how heady it was to sink fingers into Garak’s thighs, his hips... Julian’s willpower is crumbling and from the ashes his dick is rising mightily in its place like a phallic phoenix.

 

“Naturally in asking you to say, give a bit of extemporary consideration to one of Kelas’ rules, I would be perfectly amenable to an exchange. I would gladly indulge in any conversational topic of your choosing no matter how difficult or banal. That is my most valued trait, after all.”

“C-conversation?” Julian asks wondering if he’s actually serious. “God you can recite the alphabet to me if it pleases you.”

“I’m sorry? I’m afraid I don’t understand. You wish to debate the comparative linguistics of your American English versus standard Kardasi?”

“I... okay maybe I’m not being er... clear or there’s something getting lost in translation but...” Julian puts a hand on Garak’s shoulder, lightly massaging his hard ridges, watching just a touch of a boneless sink as he does. “I thought we could rather... _enjoy_ the ah... _excitement_ that the chocolate would bring you instead? Please?” He adds, shivering when Garak’s hand is over his, claws lightly teasing.

 

“Ah, is that all you want? You’re merely requesting more coitus?”

“Yes, god yes, I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything quite so badly in my life,” Julian whispers with a shaky lick of his lips. Garak has that nice wide mouth, and the scales around it are soft, almost tickle but feel so nice when kissed. Julian would really like to taste it again. He’d like to lick the syrup from it in fact. He’d like to feed him little Hershey squares and let Garak suck the melted chocolate from his fingers. He’d like to find some comfortable way to lay him down and properly worship his _ajan,_ his slit, his _prUt_ and taste Garak coming in his mouth. Oh Jesus if he keeps on like this he’s going to stain his shorts before he even makes it to the Publix. He notices the quiet and sees that Garak is looking back at him with some sort of speculation. “That’s... not a problem is it? I mean I’ve been told I’ve got an unusually strong drive so if it’s too much I understand.”

“Oh no, my dear, that isn’t it. You have my word that lizards are quite adaptable and shall we say serviceable-” Aha! That word “serviceable” again just like on the sheet. So clearly, Kelas thought it likely that Julian would avail himself right? Right?! “I had only thought that intercourse would be a given,” Garak finishes with a smile.

 

Julian is fucking amazed that he makes it to the Publix and back without getting a ticket.

That’s also how twenty minutes after his return he finds himself balls deep in Garak’s marvelous body when Kelas calls to check in on them.

He has no idea why he uses the voice answer on the phone...

 

* * *

 

“A… Ah… An… answer phone…” Julian manages, amazed that the phone on the coffee table even understands that awkwardly gasped stammer of words. He takes a deep breath trying to steady his voice when he hears the speaker phone option kick on. “H-Hello?” He calls out a bit on the breathless side as he stops moving. He’s breathing hard, but he doesn’t imagine the mic will catch that. Julian swallows, knees resting on the edge of the sectional, feet still on the floor. Of course that’s when Garak decides to shift, giving him a little encouraging squeeze and sort of make him feel like he’s dying. Good dying, not bad dying, and Julian fumbles for one of the softened milk chocolate squares laying on the top of the sectional - he bought several different type of chocolate bars and this is the Cadbury Dairy Milk with the almonds - and slowly feeds Garak another piece to keep him quiet.

 

Garak is... god such a quick study. It starts with a flick of that long tongue to his retreating fingers that halts the motion to stopping that’s easily followed by a quick slurp of Julian’s thumb into his mouth, tongue swirling around the pad to clean every bit of chocolate with a tip back of his head, shutting his eyes as he savors it. Not a single nick of those sharp teeth and god if _that_ isn’t prompting Julian to consider the completely insane notion of something a little more delicate slipping that hot slightly sticky mouth and tongue.

 

Julian is hot, so hot, so sweat damp already as his knees nearly buckle, the weight of Garak’s ankles on his shoulders not helping him remain steady. But it’s only in taking that weight that Garak can lay back, enough off the seat that his tail can move freely, those legs bent back towards his head in an incredible display of flexibility. It makes Garak open so nice and wide for him and Julian is... well thankful isn’t exactly the word… Oh who’s he kidding? He’s said several prayers this morning to a pantheon of deities in thanks for Garak’s seeming double jointedness. As it, he takes a short beat to try and be calm.

 

“Ah, Julian! Good morning, I hope you and Elim are getting along well!” Julian barely hears Kelas; that attempted meditative calm is the silent mantra of  a slow indulgent push in, Garak’s soft hiss in answer the white noise of zen that centers him. Well, centers him on the sight of. Garak’s arms shifting above his head bonelessly flopped out. Garak’s response is to tip his hips just a little bit to meet him.

“Oh... oh...” Something like a meditative chant going there, very Enigma-ish he thinks mentally patting himself on the back before managing a completely calm “yes.” That simple vociferation serving both as agreement for the question and praise for Garak’s perfect undulating rhythm at the same time. He’s pretty sure this is something akin to Nirvana right now.

 

“Splendid! I’m glad to hear it! I know Elim wasn’t in the best of moods yesterday so it’s a relief that you’ve made amends. Has he been behaving for you?” There’s a particularly poignant pause as Garak gives Julian a wide grin. Julian greedily takes another long admiring ocular drink of Garak’s body laid out for him. He realized before Kelas called, that the ridges which run along Garak’s chest coming to an end where there would normally be nipples, are more sensitive than he would have thought and make Garak _clench_ around him when he puts his tongue over them. It gets better when he rubs at them, when he strokes them, when he lets his teeth run over them, when he gives a hard suck bite ah shit shit right...

 

“Oh... oh I... I couldn’t ask for better,” Julian says with a shiver, feeling Garak’s tail coiled up, stroking at the inside of his thigh. He has has to bring up a hand to bite the fleshy part of his own hand so he doesn’t moan when the tip of Garak’s naughty tail brushes his balls. Since when could Garak even _do_ that? Since now apparently, Julian decides, chest heaving, trying to bring his breathing back under control. _Zen, zen, Julian. Remember all that tantric centered whatever in that book that Ezri had lent you?_ Yeah, that’s not doing shit. Alright, prayer it is. Now Julian’s never been terribly religious but he still tosses up a few more silent entreaties to  whoever may be listening that Parmak doesn’t want to make small talk forever. Who’s the god of silence again? Harpocrates in the Greek pantheon, he recalls. Garak clenches again and he bites into his hand harder. Why does he even know that?!

 

“Good good. I also want to encourage you to avail yourself of him-” Julian nearly chokes while Garak just _beams_ nuclear white with self satisfaction. “I did pay good money for him, after all.” Oh... Oh god, the juxtaposition of Kelas’ encouragement coupled with the stark reminder that he’s fucking someone’s _pet..._

“Ah, I fear that your colleague has yet to properly avail himself of _all_ my talents, Kelas...”

 

Julian slaps a hand over Garak’s mouth without even thinking about it, his eyes wide.

“What are you doing?” he mouths frantically, yelping as Garak _bites_ his hand giving him a wild flash of some documentary where a cow was bitten by a kimodo dragon at a watering hole and staggered back septic and dying days later only to be devoured in death and-

“Elim?” Kelas asks sounding concerned. Julian is nursing his hand hoping Garak didn’t draw blood trying desperately to think of a lie (and clear those horrific mental images from his mind, thank you very much for being a near boner kill National Geographic!) when Garak replies without missing a beat.

 

“Another one of those pesky little creatures they call “lizards” on this planet. I’m afraid Doctor Bashir gets a tad jumpy around them.” Julian glares at him and Garak smiles back fucking _preening_. Alright, so Julian might just melt a bit at that and blinks twice when Garak mouths at him to “move”. Oh, what a novel thing, his flagging willie just had a resounding rebound.

“Oh dear, perhaps I ought to call the exterminators again when I get back.” Move? Is Garak crazy? How’s he supposed to both move and try and keep quiet at the same time?! Oh. Oh there’s an _evil_ expression there, Garak’s left brow ridge drawing up in obvious challenge as if to say “I can be silent, but can you?” Does he accept? Julian feels the tip of Garak’s tail teasing him with a redoubled effort like one of those plants in _Angel of Darkness_ and he has to bite his lip.

“It would be advisable,” Garak adds waiting for Julian to start and if _that’s_ how Garak wants to play it, then game on!

 

After all, Garak didn’t tell him _what_ to move so instead he lowers his head, mouth moving over Garak’s chest, drawing the ridges between his teeth, letting his fingers lightly brush over Garak’s stomach. Julian feels a shake in response, and he gives just a little rock- a soft subtle motion, breathing out with slow meditative breaths over Garak’s skin. He can feel Garak’s legs bend back further so accommodating as he slips in just that minute amount more and has to swallow a groan. Julian can feel Garak’s hard, slick _prUt_ quivering between their bodies spilling slick fluid from the tip as he bites hard, feeling Garak swallow another hiss beneath him. Perhaps that might be a bit of revenge.

 

It might also be in response to the slight tease of penetration between his ass making him consider an entirely _new_ set of possibilities-

“Is Julian still there?”

“Mmm... I’m afraid he excused himself a moment... You’ve no idea how those lizards upset him,” Garak says mischievously and in response Julian bites harder making Garak clench again, and lets his tail drag more insistently against Julian’s sensitive sac with those faintly textured scales, another little press in so so wicked and. Julian whimpers softly.

 

“Well, give him my apologies when he returns, Elim. Have you been watching your diet well? I know you’ve been sore with me about it but you know I only have your best interests at heart. Besides, it’s better for you not to be carrying too much extra weight if I’m going to breed you.” _Breed you?_ Julian mouths the question looking up, wondering just what the hell _that’s_ supposed to mean. He feels Garak’s heel digging into him, Julian’s knee almost slipping off the edge of the sectional. He sees a fluttering of Garak’s eyes as that changes the angle and he grins big. Right, he can let Kelas worry about all that nonsense.

 

“Really you…” Garak gasps when Julian’s mouth moves to his _chula_. He’d thought at first that the blue tint was some cosmetic affectation but he realizes it’s just a darkening of his scales, the darkened swollen ridges highlighting the color so prettily. Julian lets his tongue trill over them, swirling in that sensitive little circle, feeling Garak’s thick thighs tremble where they’re pushed so far back. “You have little to worry about on that front… I assssure you,” he hisses and Julian feels pretty damn smug himself, climbing further onto the sectional in awe of Garak’s legs slipping but still going back, nearly bent in half, tail swishing with Julian straddling it. The teasing stops which is unfortunate, but tells him that he’s winning this one.

 

Julian looks up briefly, hoping this isn’t too much of a strain but Garak doesn’t seem uncomfortable. They’re both silent a moment that passes.

“Elim? Is this ah… a bad time?”

“Why ever would you think that?” comes out in the most innocent of tones and Julian smirks and reaches for another piece of chocolate. But as he meets Garak’s darkened eyes, he pops it into his own mouth and then passes it to Garak, the both of them swapping melted chocolate, tongues lapping at each other, that gooey mess smeared between them as they battle to devour it. Julian didn’t possibly think that he could love chocolate any more than he already does. Oh he was totally wrong!

 

“Because I know you Elim, and I know that we’ve hardly settled the matter and when you’re cross with me you distract yourself with other things.” Garak’s arms finally move, and Julian isn’t quite sure what he’s doing until he feels another angle shift realizing that Garak is… _Oh lord yesss…._ Julian shuts his eyes nearly hissing himself as their heated oral exchange results in Garak’s teeth nicking his tongue. _Kimodo dragon kimodo dragon shut up brain shut up brain!_ “And I would hope that you don’t indulge in any further self-destructive behaviors just to spite me because I’d considered an “unsuitable” match at the outset. I hadn’t known of your enmity at the time and if you’d _said_ something sooner instead of waiting ‘til the last minute…”

 

Julian realizes exactly what it was that Garak was doing when he feels himself push in just a little further, hearing a soft keening afraid he’s gone in too far, Garak’s hands on his own thighs, snaking around a shimmy of hips, his _ajan_ spreading perhaps a micrometer in reality but in the world of his prick it’s the fucking opening of the heavenly gates into paradise. Julian thinks that Kelas is still talking. He’s sure of it. Something about agreements and a waste of pedigree but it all fades to a dim buzzing in his skull as he buries his face in Garak’s neck, nipping, biting, just _fucking_ into him as hard as he can stand. He’ll be thankful later that he doesn’t have claws as his hands clutch at the leather beneath Garak’s head. Julian’s eyes are shut tightly, that last league of depth breached, forced open, and in response, he hears Garak hissing, feels sharp claws on his back raking down deep, Garak’s head going back like he’s trying to drive his own skull through the cushions.

 

Julian hears the thump of Garak’s tail wildly, thinks he hears Garak hissing something at Kelas in a language that he doesn’t understand- Kardasi? Mongolian? God he doesn’t care… shit… fuck… he’s going to come…

“G-garak,” is a motion of lips, a convulsion of his throat. It’s a pale tribute to proper speech- Julian hardly has enough air to fully articulate the name. He doesn’t have anything but a cellular instinct to breathe, breathe, thrust, pound, fuck, until he’s sure that Garak has flayed the skin from his back like some punished stowaway on an ancestral dhow, the sea wild and stormy. Garak’s tail licks at him, whipping wildly like those torrential winds slapping the sofa, Julian’s legs, his ass, and he realizes somewhere in there that the phone’s hung up, gone completely silent at the end of whatever disagreement Kelas and Garak were having.

 

Pity, that.

 

Well that’s fine by him. He’s been dying trying to stay silent and Garak curls claws back into his flesh, thighs shaking out of control as he spasms, clenches, turns his head to bite Julian back turn on the shoulder, hot seed spilled between them. And Julian doesn’t know how he’s held off this long but it’s just… so good so good, that muscle of Garak’s soaked _ajan_ pulling at him, Garak growling hissing, Julian thinking he’s going to flop boneless any moment but instead finding that growling shift to Julian’s ear to fuck him harder and deeper.

 

Julian doesn’t rightly know how it’s possible but he remembers Miles telling him once that there’s no such thing as impossible, merely improbable. He makes a note to call that man and thank him as he guides one of Garak’s legs over the back of the couch nearly knocking the chocolate over, angle shifting once more like a fucking organic boring machine hitting the molten core of the Earth. And maybe The Core was full of crap science and bad acting but it’s a brilliant bloody metaphor for the nuclear bomb going off getting the planet spinning again.

 

Can one come into a volcano? Yes, yes they can because it’s molten as Julian drills Garak deeper, hard, just like he begged for, hearing hisses, curses, Garak’s hands scratching at the only thing in easy reach which are Julian’s arms half dragging down rents. So maybe he ends up like that cow. Worth it. Worth every second. Julian loves it. He’s trying to keep his eyes locked on Garak because Garak is just such a beautiful wrecked mess beneath him as he spits out more curses in that language.

 

Now Julian isn’t normally the most vocal during sex but you wouldn’t know it to hear him moan, praise, babble just how _good_ Garak feels and just how magnificent he is. Julian swears he feels some secondary ring clamping at him, the trip of his prick just barely slipping into it when he finally finds that release. It’s Garak’s eyes. It’s the impossible pupils blown, the open mouth just panting and venting, some brilliant expression of disbelief at just how far inside Julian is. That look undoes him as he slows, stuttering “Oh… oh… oh… hn… hn…” like he’s about to swallow and choke on his own tongue, like he’s never going to remember to breathe again because the white hot is so good that he never wants to leave it.

 

And then he feels Garak’s hands let go of him and unsteadily and blindly grope for another piece of chocolate. Julian watches him let it melt, breathlessly savoring it like it’s almost as good as the sex they just had. That’s when Garak takes a few breaths and holds Julian a moment so that he can’t move, can’t slip out of him.

“Again,” he rasps, throat sounding raw, the ridges around his face still sex swollen, dark, the rest of his scales wearing a dark grey flush nearly tinting to some gunmetal that makes him look like an ancient golem made to catch the seed of the primitives that worshipped it. Did he really just think that? _Yes, Julian, yes you really did._

“Again?” he asks blinking dumbly not even able to fathom such a thing. Surely Garak’s body couldn’t possibly handle another round like that so soon. But Garak is nodding eagerly as he reaches for more chocolate.

“Again,” he repeats, those indents of his face and chest never looking more bright or more blue.

 

* * *

 

So they go again, this time Garak letting him “rest” as he plants feet on either side of Julian’s hips, riding him much harder and wild than he had the night before. In the daylight, Julian can let his eyes drink in all the variants of colors of Garak’s scales, especially the dark flushes of his ridges the longer and harder they go. From gray to dark gunmetal, making him appear as if he’s wearing a mask with those divots dipped deep dark blue. He maps the faint lines of veins standing dark beneath the scales as they swell, unlike anything he’s ever seen before and Julian is fascinated by Garak’s slick _prUt_ , gray, textured, not flaring wide at the head like a human’s but tapering off just a touch, the base far more sensitive as Julian squeezes, as Garak stops when he does, Julian swearing he goes molten hot, so hot around his cock..

 

Those claws just might make a few digs into the couch though better than Julian’s chest as he sees the rents and hops he can think of a decent lie when Kelas returns? Lizards again? Oh… oh god, Garak has stopped, undulating, writhing serpentine with hisses from his clenched teeth and jaw, neck swollen, _chuva_ swollen, the scales around his hard _prUt_ , around his slit so swollen and tender that Julian dares a little rub with his thumb and hears a high guttural growl that nearly makes him stop in warning until… until shit Garak is just grinding into him, wet, so wet, clear fluid slipping from tip of that beautiful dark organ, drizzling like thick syrup to Julian’s lap, so so thick and sticky Julian swear it’s like that stupid movie fucking into a hot apple pie (not that he’s _ever_ done that because that would be _weird_ ) and he finds himself catching his breath as Garak holds his wrists down and just… just settles, pulsing hot around him, dipping his head whispering hissing soft that now would be an absolutely marvelous time to spill into him.

 

Well Julian might be a shit house sitter but he can at least take direction under the right circumstances.

 

Coming in Garak feels so good, feeling his seed spilling out back onto his thigh a shiver as he pushes another piece of chocolate into Garak’s waiting mouth, his eyes practically shining, messily, saliva slurping out over Julian’s fingers as Garak’s head lolls messy fuck drunk, tongue careless in its lapping as he licks every bit from Julian’s fingers and asks if he’s certain that he wouldn’t want to take advantage of Garak’s other talents which takes Julian a moment to process. He really can’t think of anything that he should need to talk about, if anything the little wind-up bird of perversity flitting around in his head proposing if anything he should ask if he might put his mouth to Garak’s slit and drink himself greedily out.

 

“Now why ever should you want to do that?” Garak asks giving Julian a recollection of an ex who’d found a similar proposition absolutely revolting.

“Is that a… em… cultural thing?” he asks carefully as Garak licks chocolate residue from his own fingers thoughtfully, tail starting to idle and Julian may just be a bit glad for the break to catch his breath.

“I would merely think that the point would be wasted were you to… remove it…”

“The point? The point, Garak is to make you feel nice,” Julian insists, and alright that’s not to say that he would find it a wicked turn on either but Garak still looks puzzled as Julian finds himself in [wonder of wonders] a conversation on the merits of oral gratification with Garak still sitting on his lap.

 

The matter finds itself neatly resolved with Garak reluctantly agreeing to go along with Julian’s “whimsical folly” the next morning after a sly demand for more pancakes and the next volume of _Akame ga Kill_. Julian is certain that Garak is going to get sick if he doesn’t stick properly to his diet, asking him if the blue of those spaces isn’t indicative of some impending stomach malady when Garak huffs at him that in spite of what Kelas might seem to think he isn’t a hatchling who can’t see to his own good health.There may be a slight sideways look at that affront which leaves Julian to wonder if he isn’t being put on when Garak insists that he make it up with a rub of his shoulders that goes on until Julian’s fingers feel like they might cramp.

 

It isn’t certain whose idea the record is. Quite possibly his as he recalls Palis once saying that no one living in the current century would willingly be caught dead listening to Ace of Base as he’d sighed and skipped that album on Spotify when it came on. Lovely feet or no, that relationship didn’t last half as long as his time with Jack. So it might be Julian’s idea to put a little something on when he gifts Garak with a “scream as loud as you want” accompanied by a smirk and wink that sails clearly over Garak’s head possibly somewhere onto the patio outside. Garak looks at him silently a moment before asking if he should be concerned that whatever activity Julian is proposing should result in pained vociferations at such volume that they should require tempering with music.

 

Julian has a flash of Tracy Ullman fumbling with a vinyl in _I Love You to Death_ while Keanu Reeves ostensibly murders her husband and decides at that moment he watches too much Netflix.

 

“Sorry, just an expression. I only mean that um…” he trails off as Garak continues to look up at him kneeling, expression serious but a slight swish of his tail that Julian is starting to learn signifies some mischief. “Trust me, nothing but good things,” Julian starts, noticing in his peripheral vision Garak seeming to move a slow stalk across the floor on all fours seeming just a touch too natural to be entirely reassuring. “I just ah… like the beat. The Bass if you will,” Julian stammers, feeling his shorts growing tight, wondering why he bothered throwing on any clothes at all. Maybe they ought to just run around starkers like _The Blue Lagoon_ all natural and wild and Julian remembers the last time he had put on _that_ particular soundtrack with Jack certain to remind him that Richard and Emmeline were cousins and-

 

“Ah, so that’s the reason for the soundtrack,” Garak declares as “All That She Wants” begins and Julian feels himself being tugged down to the floor rather roughly.

“Beg your pardon?” he asks, thankful the concrete slab ensures the record doesn’t skip.

“Your thoughts are quite loud,” Garak murmurs with an unapologetic claw hooking under the hem of his shirt. He takes the hint and removes it before it rips wondering if it’s not too late to remove his boxer briefs before they’re… nope, already staining through cock wet and half hard and it wouldn’t have occurred to him to pack extra but well it’ll dry and he’ll shower tonight and… and there’s a slight hiss of irritation, Garak just staring hard at him.

 

“Right, Julian agrees before having the absolutely wicked idea of laying back and having Garak straddle his face. Garak seems far less hesitant at Julian’s “licentious entreaties” this time ‘round and Julian happily holds thick thighs as he gives the first swipe to Garak’s exposed slit, starting first with those surrounding swollen scales, hearing a hiss, licking more in earnest, the juncture of his thighs, wondering just how much give said scales have finding it to be not nearly as much as human skin but certainly enough drawing a small tug, feeling thighs practically clamp while Garak hisses again, Julian feeling a sticky wet slide of nectar to his tongue, like the pour of gelatinous water given to patients at risk of aspiration.

 

That’s absolutely Julian right now as his own hips push up to the air, Garak’s tail slapping at his thigh surely making it red but the sting a sign of Garak’s appreciation as Julian’s tongue parts swollen scales, tasting hot pink flesh soft, sweet, yielding so nicely to his tongue, Garak’s _prUt_ slowly everting, pushing past Julian’s nose, “Don’t Turn Around” nearly making him snort because if there’s one thing Garak isn’t doing it’s turning back for all the slow pushes he’s making to Julian’s face, each slight brush of his slick sex organ to Julian’s nose as Julian buries heaven between thighs and pushes his tongue inside only wishing that it was as long and versatile as the lizard’s.

 

Oh but what he lacks in _lingua_ , he more than makes up for in _digiti manus_ , Jack always having been rather fond of his fingers, and Julian slowly pushes them inside hearing the hisses grow louder, the tail slapping moving from one leg to the other and he’s glad he’s not going to have to explain _those_ bruises to anyone. There’s not a screaming, but a gasp, another loud hiss growl when he worked on two, tongue starting to tease the base of Garak’s sex, that sticky stuck to his chin, certainly his nose, cheeks, til he feels like he’s buried into the most delicious frosted cake, a quivering moaning cake as he finds the base to be oh so sensitive, and said base aces flip to another song dimming to background music as Julian works eagerly.

 

Eagerly until a slap of tail hits his cock making him howl, making a sharp jolt that should kill his erection dead but well there’s another one for the deviant list he decides as Garak gasps some sort of apology, thighs trembling around Julian as claws scratch at the carpet. Julian hears the rip rents and thinks for a rational moment there’s no real explanation for all the claw marks unless he channels Fox Mulder and invents some fan-fucking-tastic alien encounter that doesn’t involve his tongue buried in 18 stone worth of lizard. Well hell, he’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it, a slip of his name reaching his ears just delightfully as the record stops and Garak insists on flipping the thing over having determined it holds some mystical correlation to Julian’s “fantastic performance”.

 

Well that just gives him the bloody brilliant idea to sit up, ignore the red welts on his thighs, and crawl over to the flushed, darkened ridged lizard carefully flipping to the B side. Julian waits just long enough for the beat to start again for “Wheel of Fortune” before he indulges in the fucking marvelous idea of pleasure Garak on his knees, mouth descending on the everted _prUt_ happily, a wince as Garak barely catches himself on Julian’s shoulders asking him just how long he intends this torture to endure. Or something like that anyway since half of it is a series of alien sounds but Julian’s learned pretty well to extrapolate the stammered sex noises of at least two very particular partners. And alright, he might gag a bit on the girth, might feel jaw aching sore throat raw by the time the Banghra Version of “All That She Wants” kicks on but he fucking loves it, and can’t get enough by the time Garak is sinking back to his knees, shoving Julian back so that he can ride it once more.

 

This time when the record runs out neither of them bother flipping it.

 

* * *

 

Over the next three days they fuck again, and again, Julian mystified that Garak can still go two or three times a day between meals and sleep. At least he can with a little cocoa incentive and Julian is oh so happy to oblige. Garak also shows Julian that it is _very_ possible to take him on his hands and knees - that tail alternating between straight up to allow him access to Garak’s _ajan,_ and curling around Julian’s hip to almost draw him in further. Julian really enjoys fucking him from behind like that because of how easily he can stroke his _prUt_ , his stomach, play with his sensitive _chuva_ , hold his hips and thighs and pound him nice and rough.

 

Julian is in heaven.

 

He feeds Garak more chocolate: Lindt, Ghirardelli, some German thing that was nearly ten dollars for a little bar. Julian watches him lick and suck the circumference of a Cadbury egg before getting the brilliant idea of dipping his prick in Nutella and letting Garak devour it. He’s pretty sure this is the point where he ought to consider the fact that his libido is absolutely overriding his sanity but Garak assures him (sounding offended even) that he’s not some _mindless beast_ that’s incapable of restraint. Well Julian might feel just a touch called out by that but then again _he’s_ the one sitting on an expensive leather sectional with his prick covered in hazelnut chocolate so it’s not like it’s entirely unfounded.

 

Julian endures a few bites, positive they’re on purpose as light and deliberate as they feel, and finds they actually make him harder. Yeah, he’s gone full deviant alright. Well, not so far that he neglects his duties altogether. He makes sure to feed Garak his normal diet but alright maybe he gives in to Garak’s beautiful eyes on him, his hands on Julian’s knees and lets him have “a little taste” of fettuccine alfredo, a “minor indulgence” of thick fluffy pancakes and “just a spot” of his Aunt Emmeline’s Bread Pudding that leaves Garak nearly as amorous as the chocolate does.

 

They may end up after that particular meal with Garak on Julian’s lap, legs wrapped around him just lazily and blissfully riding him as he and Julian share one spoon after another leaving more than one sticky sweet mess between them. Julian shots his aunt a “thank you” email the next day and inquires if he might also get a copy of her figgy pudding. She asks him who the lucky one is that he’s trying to impress and he shoots a discreet look to Garak (now up to the fifth volume utterly enraptured) and thinks well at least he hasn’t got two girls knocked up like his cousin Paddy or spending a night in lockup for some incident on the tram like Alastair so still, the best of all the cousins!

 

 _Low, low bar, Jubilee,_ he hears Jack say in his head and wonders how long one hears their ex’s criticisms post break up; Google offers no help on that one.

 

The next day, Garak surprises Julian by waking him up, mouth on his cock, again letting his teeth scrape just enough to walk that line of pain and pleasure; and chocolate or no chocolate he’s a fucking natural, Julian thinks in a daze. That mouth is still so hot, lizard hot, with a flash of that stupid Winterfresh commercial coming to mind pedantically informing him the mouth is the same temperature as a sweltering jungle. Oh this is much much hotter, fever hot, Julian is reminded again as he barely refrains from thoughtlessly thrusting up - even he’s not crazy enough to see what alchemy results from sharp teeth mixed with a splash of involuntary gag reflex.

 

There’s a joke that might be made about his prick being a thermometer measuring temperature (and alright, he may have used that one himself when he was a third year med student) but he’d be willing to bet money that it’s at least 43 degrees C. A blissful heat, the surface of Venus surrounding him as comes to full wakefulness and tries to stammer out more than merely “yes Garak Garak please god fuck yes…” He fails at that, though he does manage to hold his eyes open long enough to see Garak’s tail swishing idly then faster the wetter the mouth gets, the more saliva spills to Julian’s groin and Julian swears that the musk in the room isn’t his alone.

 

It’s heavy in the air and it smells strangely like salted caramel and coffee creamer of all things! Not that Julian hadn’t noticed a scent before but it wasn’t quite the same scent and not nearly as strong. Julian is about to make a note to ask on it when he feels a slow idle slide, his prick hitting the back of Garak’s throat, slowly, thoughtfully before slipping down with a throat clenching head tilt swallow and he bites his lips and might possibly tear the top sheet as he howls in pleasure. Probably should’ve put a record on for him this time but maybe the retirees next door won’t hear anything…

 

 _Bit of a moot issue now_ Julian thinks as he tries not to choke on his own tongue or his own saliva with the slow, steady undulations of Garak’s head that have his eyes shutting tightly and his legs drawing up, falling wider apart, a creak of one thigh but god he doesn’t even remotely care. Julian is close, so close, back arching, head whipping back and forth as Garak swallows him, long tongue slipping to tease his sac and it’s so tight, so hard, trembling hot, so full, Julian trying to remember to breathe in there somewhere swallow gasp swallow gasp finally catching a dim hush of words from Garak _“perhaps I’m coming around to your way of thinking after all on the matter of ‘wasted seed’...”_ Julian in there thinks he insists stammered and on the verge of coming that there no such thing as waste when it’s going into such a hot perfect mouth.

 

It may come out more like “nnngh tsssss hnn haaa haaa…” And then Garak tells Julian that he merely wishes to express his thanks for being such an accommodating “master”.

 

Julian comes so hard he forgets his own name for a moment.

 

But after that, Julian isn’t quite sure how he feels about the word and admits to Garak that he doesn’t rightly know exactly what’s between them since their relationship is a bit different than that to him.

“Well there’s your problem, my dear,” Garak says as they lay outside nude in the late afternoon just near the water of the pond, Garak’s head on Julian’s lap. He’s somehow found time in between all their… extraneous activities to read through volume 5 of _Akame ga Kill!_ “You needn’t worry about caching our interactions in terms of a “relationship”. I enjoy your company and you enjoy mine.”

 

“Right, I’ll be sure to put it that way to Kelas when he gets back assuming he doesn’t run me off with a bloody shotgun for defiling his lizard.” He hears Garak give a soft laugh as he turns a page.

“You humans and your fantastic imaginations. I don’t expect Kelas to feel much save perhaps bemusement at your decision to use an “expensive conversation lizard” for something as conventional as sexual release.”

“It’s not that I _don’t_ enjoy our discussions, Garak, and don’t think that I’ve forgotten about your ridiculous argument about soap operas being high art. I just… find you… find your body absolutely irresistible.”

 

“What a novel concept,” he hears Garak murmur offering some likely meaningless assurance that Kelas will likely endeavor to keep having him back until he realizes the “true value of a conversation lizard”. Garak than smirks and adds to Julian’s mortification that he might even require Julian to provide him with some academic demonstration of Garak’s “irresistibility”. Alright, mortification tinged with a bit of exhibitionist fantasy at the thought of Kelas watching over those spectacles, toying with the end of his braid, telling Julian just how impressed he is with his performance. Julian is starting to think maybe there’s just something in the damn water making his brain fire off with this much insatiable thirst.

 

But at least Garak and Kelas seemed to resolve whatever disagreement they were having. Julian was careful not to answer the phone mid coitus again, even if it meant stopping with an unhappy lizard glaring and pouting at him...

 

Well, whatever happens with Kelas, Julian supposes he can cross that bridge when he gets to it. He decides to accept Garak’s invitation to join him in the pond finding water sex both more and less difficult that he’d imagined. Julian might also capitulate to Garak’s entreaties to allow him to finish “Paradise Lost” and let him vent his frustrations before offering him a “special” dark and milk chocolate Lindor truffle seeing Garak practically peak with the confection in his mouth. Julian makes a mental note of that one as well hoping that Kelas maybe doesn’t ah… notice that Garak may have gained a little weight.

 

It’s not like it’s Julian’s fault, he tells himself as he eagerly runs hands over Garak’s chest, over his stomach from behind, Garak half draped over the dining room table that last day. It’s Garak with those little pleas, those licks to his fingers, those eyes asking him for more and that beautiful mouth whispering such filthy things to him… how could be possibly refuse him something as small as a piece of cake? Alright and then there was the chocolate… all the chocolate, like the chocolate on one of the place settings, little sweet shelled Cadbury eggs in a soup dish that it amuses Garak to no end to devour with a crunch.

 

In Julian’s opinion he wears his weight perfectly, soft, plush, just… Oh just so delightful, Julian thinks as he gives Garak’s chest a good lusty squeeze and sighs happily, rubbing thumbs again over those sensitive swollen ridges to feel Garak clench around him. He takes another mental inventory of the time, figuring that there’s no need to rush. They might even have time for another go. This time Julian is envisioning something nice, daring, perhaps a nice leisurely screw with Garak on his side Julian’s arms wrapped around one of his voluptuous thighs. He may have to cut it short to clean up though. They did get the place awfully messy and he’s certain the entire house has that odd salted caramel creamer things going but god it just makes Julian hard whenever he dwells on it overly long…

 

Fuck, he has a lot to clean up.

 

Garak wishes him well in that as he decides to resume his reading into volume 6. Spoiled indeed! Julian thinks as he grabs for the cleaning supplies to get to work. Garak’s notion of helping is talking him into one last quickie on their beloved sectional that turns into an hour of Julian just playing with him with mouth and fingers because there’s less mess that way. At least that’s what he tells himself with all the fluid spilled from his _prUt_ , from his _ajan_ thick gooey lust syrup coating his tongue and his fingers, salty sweet as he licks them off with a sigh. And after demonstrating that he can give Garak just as much pleasure with his mouth as with his “exceptional piece of manhood” on multiple occasions now, he doesn’t notice Garak complaining much when he comes in Julian’s mouth a quivering mess of lizard, tasting of debauchery and sweetness.

 

Three hours later the house is bloody spotless and Julian is sitting there with his tablet reading through his email, Garak having joined him now that that “unpleasant drudgery has been seen to” when Kelas returns. He sets his bags down after paying the cab driver, giving a nice long stretch, himself looking just as fine as he did when he left and no more conservatively dressed. Julian almost thinks he’s gotten some sort of tan but given the differences in the epidermis or rather the scales that seems unlikely. Damn lucky Garak (he still absolutely refuses to believe that the two of them aren’t fucking). Regardless, Julian lets out a breath as he stands up politely thinking he’s in the clear. That is until he sees Kelas scenting the air with an odd look on his face.

 

“Ahh… Julian? Why does it taste like you and Elim had a hundred hour chocolate fuck orgy in here?” Oh. Well that’s blunt. _Alright, Julian, stay calm. You’ve talked yourself out of more damning situations than this. Like that third year with Hayes and his roommate Suzanne in the parking lot with Doctor Redding catching the lot of you..._

“Because we did, Kelas,” Garak chimes in unhelpfully without even looking up from his book. _Oh. Alright then. Okay then. I’m going to fucking die, thank you Garak._ Julian opens his mouth, shuts it again, and in the end nearly passes out with his head whipping wildly back and forth between the two.

 

And then Kelas just sighs, leaving Julian to wonder just what’s going on when he says with a click of his tongue looking to Garak in particular.

.

“Oh dear… well… I hope you at least used protection…”

 

**Author's Note:**

> There are two directions this can go either as an OT3 or possible alien pregnancy so stay tuned and we'll see ;)
> 
> Of course you can also consider the story here complete as well


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